Flirting with Coquette

      It all began with a new pair of shoes.
     You know the kind- sassy, sexy (and in your personal sweet delusion, they make you look thinner). 
     It may have been a birthday party but it was the shoes that really needed to be celebrated. 
     Reservations had been made. 
     The crowd had been assembled.
     The champagne had been uncorked.
     Let the magic begin at Coquette.
     If there is another restaurant, in this entire city, that speaks to the parisian cafe vibe so vividly then I don’t know where it is. 
     You enter and are transported- sparkling chandeliers, dark woods, tiled floors, stiff-starched tablecloths, waiters in folded aprons, heavy flatware, a chatty atmosphere with lovers nibbling each other in the corners- and the food! Divine!
    Glasses clinked- salutations declared- figs devoured…

and the shoes, well, 
they flirted all night long.

Magazine at Washington Street

Celeste Fig Salad
with buratta cheese and arugala

Sea Scallops 
with baby turnips, oxtail sausage,
currant tomatoes in a port wine reduction

Instead of a formal desert, we were brought these dreamy
Pavlova-like popsicles


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