Red Cat
I'd forgotten what it's like to go out on a Friday night. Thursday night was always date night for Todd and me pre-baby, so much so that while I was riding in to meet Todd for dinner last night I wondered if I we would show up and not have a reservation because I'd made it for Thursday. Anyway, we had to wait about 10 minutes for a table at The Red Cat, with frequent assurances from the hostess that it would only be a couple of minutes. So nice. And that set the tone for the whole evening. I thought the waiter would be snooty, but he was nice, too.
I took a big risk here and ordered the liver, which I had never had. I figured if I was going to like liver, it would be liver prepared at a place like this, so I went for it. The waiter told me if I didn't like it they'd bring me something else, but you know what? I'm all about appetizers, desserts and sides. Usually the main dish is the most boring part of the meal. So I wasn't too nervous. And even though the unctuous, silky-sweet liver was too much (I liked the crisp edges, though), I really enjoyed the meal.
It helped that it started with a hearty dish, their salad of bitter greens. I know it sounds light, but their salad is served on top of a pool of gruyere fondue, with wonderful wedges of salty potato, diced apples and bacon. I could've stopped there. I saw one table sharing it.
The liver came with broccoli rabe and tomatoes with olives and capers. The bitter greens actually didn't seem to go very well with the sweet liver, but it was yummy. Todd had the most boring-sounding dish, roast chicken, but they literally spice it up with some Thai chiles. I don't know how they did it, but the skin was crispy and the meat was flavorful.
They have some fancy desserts and some wonderfully homey ones. We ended with the rocky road sundae, caramel ice cream with hot fudge, candied walnuts and homemade marshmallows. I wanted the cookie plate, which is served with a mini milkshake. There was also an almond panna cotta that sounded good, but the rhubarb dessert, their special, was rhubarb-raspberry ice cream sandwich, with the bread part made of pistachio meringue. Sounded a little froofy, so we went the comfort-food route.
I can't bring myself to call this Indian pudding, although that name does conjure up warm New England winter desserts. It also brings up in me 4 years of p.c. training at a liberal arts college in the '90s. So the more accurate, but much less evocative, cornbread pudding. 
I had lots of kale left over after the chorizo soup, so I found a recipe in The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen that's basically braised kale over bruschetta. Saute chopped kale in olive oil with a garlic clove for 10 minutes, until it starts to wilt. Then add some water, salt, pepper and pepper flakes and steam covered for another half an hour (the liquid was gone from mine at this point). Drizzle the kale with balsamic vinegar (which reminded me of the spinach with vinegar we used to have when I was a kid, only better), then toast some bread, drizzle it with olive oil and scrape a garlic clove on it, put the kale on top, then top that with shavings of pecorino romano.
After about three days the crust on the raisin and pecan bread I ordered from Zingerman's was getting pretty tough to bite through. (Though I tried valiantly, I failed to consume the whole thing. Todd wasn't much help since the loaf was loaded with raisins and he's not a big fan.) Zingerman's also sells chips made from their leftover bread, so I thought I'd take a cue from them and bake up some of my own.