A place for celebrating, and one for making up
Where we dined Friday evening was usually decided by the mood of the week. A week with many more ups than downs at home or at work back in Northern Virginia led us to the fiestaready Don Pablo's, serving authentic Oaxacan delights. We were often greeted by mariachi guitarists. Or we would dine at Il Porto's, where fettuccine was in the air and Signore Mamie greeted us at the door.
These dine-ins had open seats and a lively bar. We settled down and soon someone arrived with crisp golden chips and thick (never runny) salsa lightly seasoned with pepper at Don Pablo's or small slices of focaccia with olive oil at Il Porto's. You might have guessed by now where the celebratory evening was heading; the starters were accompanied by special tequila or limoncello. We would finish up dinner relishing the tiramisu or sopapilla.
Some weeks were marked by disappointments. One of us would be upset at the other's behavior, or with someone else at work or school. The discontent simmered through the week and called for resolution before yet another week cruised by.
Some weeks were marked by disappointments. One of us would be upset at the other's behavior, or with someone else at work or school. The discontent simmered through the week and called for resolution before yet another week cruised by. We then usually turned up at Cooker — a somber dine-in, set back from the bustle of the shopping center in a separate building with its own parking lot.
The cuisine did not offer much fare for vegetarians like me, but hey, that Friday dinner was for explanations and atonement, not for merry making. The background elevator music was appropriately non-intrusive.
These Cooker dinners came to be known as “retreats” in our family. Just like similar pauses with our work groups when we stopped every few months to review where we were and where we wanted to go. For me, talk about retreats on Friday stirred up a sense of foreboding and yes, relief that the boiling splutter of resentment would spill over and get wiped clean.
Even-keel weeks were the norm. Thai Pavilion was then our dine-out choice for tangy pad Thai, comforted by coconut milk and Singha beer. Or Carlos O'Kelly's, a casual Tex-Mex that offered a wide assortment
of burgers and quesadillas, accompanied by their signature margarita. Both were family run and the owners hovered around to respond to any special dietary preference.
Now that we are in the North Bay, we are on the hunt for similar eateries that fit the celebratory, making-up or normal weekends. Recommendations are welcome since indoor dining seems to be the norm after the pandemic pause.
Ash Subramanian is a Novato resident. IJ readers are invited to share their stories of love, dating, parenting, marriage, friendship and other experiences for our How It Is column, which runs Tuesdays in the Lifestyles section. All stories must not have been published in part or in its entirety previously. Send your stories of no more than 600 words to lifestyles@ marinij.com. Please write “How It Is” in the subject line. The IJ reserves the right to edit them for publication. Please include your full name, hometown and a daytime phone number.