If there was one last meal you could have before leaving this world, what would it be? It’s a silly hypothetical question that we would never likely have to answer. Still, last night when my boyfriend took me to Giorgio Baldi, my favorite restaurant in the whole world, to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I posed this question and responded with my answer. I told him if I knew I were to die tomorrow, I could probably be ok going after having what I ordered for dinner. Not a very romantic statement to make, but I sincerely meant it because I ate like I wasn’t going to see the next day. Off of the Pacific Coast Highway on 114 W. Channel Rd in Santa Monica, this little Italian restaurant that seats about 60 people at capacity has people packed to the max to be served food that is simply out of this world good. We each ordered the Mista salad: Butter lettuce, radicchio, carrots, and tomatoes in a red wine vinaigrette and we shared the Clams, Langostines, and Agnolotti: homemade ravioli filled with sweet white corn in a white truffle sauce. I dream about this ravioli, it’s the best, I love it so much that I get butterflies in my stomach in nervous and anxious anticipation of having it. I had one order as an appetizer, one order with my main course, the Dover Sole with spinach and potatoes, and another order before my dessert. I call them “crack ravioli;” I have become a fiend for them. For dessert, we had the Butterscotch pudding, which I die for.
The first time I had this pudding was an unforgettable and funny story, which will always have me order this dessert before we even get seated at a table. A few years ago when eating at GB for by birthday, there was a table behind us with three men who were all eating something out of this tiny glass, all just going at it with spoons in hand, they all stopped talking; I had never seen anything like it. I mentioned that I just had to have what they were having. Keep in mind, GB is tiny, so the people at the neighboring tables can hear your entire dinner conversation; it’s unavoidable, the tables are so close. The men heard what I mentioned and then offered to share theirs with me. Pulcone (my favorite server, the entire staff; however, is is very sweet) then took a spoonful from their dessert and offered it to me. I told him that I couldn’t accept a bite from their pudding and I would just order my own. To my disappointment, they were sold out. Considering the restaurant’s clientele, of course there was a good reason why three men in a restaurant were all eating out of one cup, they were having the last one. Or so I thought… Pulcone then took a spoonful out of the very last pudding in the restaurant that the men had paid for to-go and had already wrapped in a doggie bag, so I was obligated to try it. That spoonful was heaven and every time I order it, I think of that night. We offered to pay for the dessert, but it was actually for the wife of one of those men and had already been paid for. Poor woman will probably always wonder why a bite was missing from her butterscotch pudding; however, GB no longer allows any one to take the cups home or take this dessert to go (cup shortage issue).
Thank you Il Ristorante di Giorgio Baldi, you are my favorite! I crave, I rave about, I savor you forever!
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