Best Birthday Ever

I got home from work Wednesday to find Jason telling me I needed to pack an overnight bag. I was tired from a long, cranky day and woozy from not having a chance to eat any lunch so I whined to him. "Caaaan't yoooouu pack it for meee?" I try to pack Penny in the suitcase, she does not oblige.
At about 5:30, the phone rings and we walk our suitcases outside to where this:

was waiting for us. Yup, a town car. So as we're getting into the car, I hear the driver ask Jason "The Soniat House?", to which Jason nods. Which means nothing me as I have never heard of this place. I try to pry it out of him but he does his usual, which is just saying 'yes' to every question I ask. He's good. And the driver takes the round-a-bout way, which I now believe he did because he didn't really know the way. When we pull up to
the Soniat House,

I see this: This gorgeous courtyard through the old wooden front doors where an old man is polishing the doorknobs. "Welcome to da Soniat House!", Jorge says with a thick spanish accent. He holds the door for us as the driver brings our bags inside. The corridor to the courtyard is cool and dark, a welcome change from the 90 degree heat and blazing sun of New Orleans in July. The trees and foliage are thick over our heads and when Jason pulls the small brass key out of his pocket (an actual key, no plastic room badges here) I know for sure. It's like stepping through a time machine. The suitcase rolls noisily over the cobblestones, rudely awakening the resident cat,
Clarice from one of her many afternoon naps. She meows loudly at me. I pet her. Sweet. Up the stairs and one room back is our room, number 27. Jason opens the door for me and lets Clarice and I in. The walls are brick, painted white, the floor is dark hardwood. There is a non-working fireplace on the wall opposite the door with a painting above the mantle. A large bed, bookcase filled with 18th and 19th century books, large amoire (with no tv inside!), and dresser complete the furnishings. The bathroom is small but nice. The fixtures on the sink read "Froid" and "Chaux". There are flowers on the dresser, a large bouquet with white lilies and two-toned roses, and a bottle of champagne on ice. Greta happy. Jason draws me a bubble bath, because we don't have a tub at home and he knows how much I miss baths. He brings me a glass of champagne and I settle into my lavender scented bubble bath. We have dinner reservations at 7:00, at another restaurant I've never heard of (I dont get out much) called Stella! I've bought a new cocktail dress for this occasion, and I put it on after my bath. We walk down to the restaurant where the hostess asks us what name our reservations are under.
Thank goodness we have some! After being seated in the front dining room and revealing that neither of us actually knew which one was our salad fork, we are served cocktails and menus. I had a dirty sapphire martini, and jason an old fashioned. We peruse the menu and decide to order the gnocchi for an appetizer. But first, an amuse bouche from the chef! A mango and champange soup concotion served in a spoon, with a small piece of (shhh) shrimp in it. I ate it. The place was too fancy to refuse free food because I don't like it. I could have done without the shrimp but the liquid was heavenly. And here comes our gnocchi. Divine lobster gnocchi in a rich cheese sauce with a white shaved truffle on top. Yum. And then we order: Jason gets the veal with spinach and roasted vegetables and reduction and I opt for a miso and sake glazed seabass with soba noodles and shark fin sauce. And woah, here comes another amuse bouche! A fried wonton stuffed with veal and shrimp and a red chile sauce drizzled over. mmm... They actually served us chopsticks to eat it with and then took them away after we were done. A little wasteful but hey, indulgence often is so. Then a bottle of wine! That apparently being friends with some regulars there gets you. VIPS, indeed! It's a lovely little german bottle of red with chocolatey tones and Jason even drinks some. So dinner comes, my fish melts in my mouth. It's heavenly and Jason's veal is rich and tender and despite my aversion to eating baby anything (except shark), I enjoy it too. Then we split the creme brulee for dessert. Served near frozen with a ginger infused sugar crust, a green tea ice cream sidecar, and drizzled with mint syrup, the dessert is a perfect ending to a perfect meal. We exit the restaurant three hours later, $200 poorer, heads still spinning. Then to our favorite bar which is only two blocks away for a nightcap and then back to the room to crash. And in the morning, breakfast at a local coffee shop, perusing the artists market and then...back to reality. And my cats. Whom I adore. And my boyfriend, who earned maaad props for just creating the best birthday I've ever had!
Happy Birthday, indeed!