The Cheese Guy & Mitchell

Two, two two guys in one...post. Intrinsically entwined they are and we'll just let it go at that. The imperial we, yes.
Zebo's is a wonderful restaurant on Strand Street in Christiansted. Probably one of my favorite streets in town, despite its lack of chaney hunting (well, unless you wander into a certain parking lot or two). Over the years certain stores have stayed and stayed - Nano's, a funky souvenier shop with a wonderful owner who can tell you good story, the art store, Commanche hotel (which is undergoing huge change but in that 'keep it the same but better' sort of way). Zebo's has had many incarnations, including a strip joint, but for now and hopefully a long, long time, it will be its own elegant self.
(photo from gypsynester.blogspot.com)

What I have lost in memory is...which came first, the aeration or the cheese, but logic says it must of been the aerator or I'd remember this more clearly. Our wine (a malbec, the new favorite of mine and friends - it has a wonderful taste and a sane price, excellent combo) was being poured as we talked but how could we not notice the sssss'ing sound? The bartender, who turned out to be the notable Mitchell, was pouring the wine through a slightly pornographic looking device that he informed us was an aerator.

He was oxygenating our wine (well, who doesn't? I'm such a hick). I can't argue with a good hit of oxygen, especially as my lungs are cleaning out a couple decades of tar, but was he blowing air up our figurative malbecian skirts? So we had a taste test...un-aerated wine vs. ssssss'ed wine. And yes, there is a difference! Too bad there is no way I can express in words what it is, but sorry Mitchell...it doesn't matter much, in my opinion. It's visually, and bar talk wise, one of those fun wine things (as opposed to the not fun wine things like that bore next to you droning on and on about his / her meandering through the Napa/Bordeaux/Kefalonia - oh darling, you don't know the Kefalonia region in the Ionian Islands? Shhhhh! Tres chic!)

And while we were getting lessons in aerating, sitting beside us was a quiet man, minding his own business, who eventually got served with the cheese plate. Of course, being Zebo's, this was, in both presentation and content, a delight for the eyes, nose and mouth. How do I know this? Because I tasted all of the cheeses. At his request, mind you. I also shared all of those tastes with Linda...leeeetttttllllleeeee teeeeeennnnyyy tiiiinnny pinches, I swear to the cheese god and Bob, one of the owners. Because somewhere along the way of my admiring his cheese plate and him politely offering (and being rejected MANY times, really!) a sample, this nice, fairly benign seeming solo business traveler turned into a laughing, slightly devilish sort, intent on humiliating me in front of the whole restaurant by insisting I was eating his entire 'dinner' while he looked on helplessly. I'm not sure how many aerations we'd all gone through at this point, but a lot apparently. And oh dear lord, that cheese was amazing, Out of six or seven types, two were completely outstanding, a bleu that I can't remember the name of...Caasssskl;ajk;ads (if you know, please tell me! Linda and I are hooked) and a camembert that I first thought was a Brie. I did NOT lick the plate as it was suggested later on, but had I been alone, in the privacy of my own shrub outside the restaurant with the plate under my arm? Hell yes, I would have!

Yes, this photo is dim, and it is best to keep it that way. Cheese guy...you devil you!

It didn't help that the couple on the other side of Linda, who had obviously been observing for awhile, offered us bites of their creme brulee'- I think it was creme brulee - again, INSISTING we taste it. So we did. And in fact I think we might never buy a meal again, as this was just too easy. Just kidding...we went back another night and I had the lamb while Linda ordered the mussels and we were both sated with no room for cheese OR creme brulee. But as the commercial says...there's always room for Malbec!

On a side note: something that might be surprising some people, I happen to have a strong appreciation for beautiful shirts on men. I think my father fostered this, not because he wore particularly beautiful shirts - he did not in his incarnation as a Dad, I think this was a long ago facet I didn't get to see - he pointed out to me when I was very young the beauty of the classic Guayabera shirt, a staple of any Latin American man's wardrobe. I could go into a whole dissertation about these shirts but I won't. You're welcome.

And here was our Mitchell, aerator extraordianaire, wearing an incredibly beautiful, perfectly pressed shirt. While pouring red wine. Since my daughters and I agree that we should never leave the house for an evening that will include drinking wine in any other color but merlot, I was very impressed. He told us that it was only one of at least 100 beautiful shirts he owns and since that would take almost half of a year to check for sure, we came in four nights in a row and have to just trust him on the rest...but he did bring out two others for show and tell (maybe he DOES spill sometimes?) that were equally wonderful. I resisted caressing the fabric just in case I had any cheese remnants on my fingers - which I seriously doubt - because I didn't want to pay the dry cleaning bill (yes, St. Croix has dry cleaners!).

A wonderful night at a wonderful restaurant that I hope is around for a long long time. Well done, Zebo's crew, and many thanks, Bob. And thanks for letting us back in...with practice, even some of us from Culebra can be trained! Got cheese?