Several weeks after my birthday dinner, it was time for me to head back to The Root for round 2. This time I was alone. I left work on a Tuesday evening and drove down the street to the strip mall in which one of Oakland County's best restaurants is oddly situated. I requested an outside table and sat, enjoying my Bon Appetit magazine and the conversations of people around me. I'm an eavesdropper, and I don't care who knows it.
This time, I started again with the scallops. They're too good.
I just don't understand that white bean puree. It's got the consistency of hummus and lacks flavor. Maybe it's just there to anchor the dish and provide a little texture to the plate? In that case, job well done.
I followed my scallops with the watermelon salad.
Peppery greens, blue cheese (which I requested instead of feta, my mortal enemy), paper-thin radishes, pickled onions, sesame seeds. All my old friends. I felt so sophisticated, sitting and enjoying dinner alone. Eating a watermelon salad, no less, and savoring every bite. Then I dropped a bite of buttered bread butter-size down on my skirt and lost my whole attitude.