Hell bent for otherness, we rendezvoused Friday evening at Tapas Calpé Wine and Cheese Bar in the heart of Cary’s commercial district.
By day this place is a butcher shop (Orchard Prime Meats). Evenings it becomes the server of delicate morsels.
Ladyloves Sue and Carol had a few bottles of imported Italian wines. Jon and I returned the favor and had a few beers, mostly Italian imports.
Then I settled on Stella Artois because I liked the way it sounds when I say it … “May I please have another Stella Artois?”
We did traditional tapas, which is the practice of having your dining companions grab food off your plate when you’re not looking. True gentlemen are polite and still hungry when the check arrives.
I could have had six plates of the red peppers stuffed with smoked salmon. Walnuts were sprinkled over the top. It was god-wonderful yummy. Some of the entrees were eaten before I could remember to photograph them.
I insisted on desert. They had a new kind of chocolate cake on the menu, put together and baked minus the flour. I know, it sounds impossible. I was wondering what was holding it together. My chocolate wedge sat there quivering, about to topple. It was delicious.