Number 12

This weekend Derek and I celebrated a thousand years of being married. See, here we are back in 1970-something. I love that man more every year, which is saying a lot considering I was pretty in love back when we first got hitched. He is my best friend, and the person I want to be with more than any other in the world. I'll stop before I get all mushy.

To celebrate another year of matrimony, we dropped off the little people with some friends and drove to San Antonio, where we visited the temple, waltzed along the Riverwalk, dined at our new favorite San Antonio eating establishment (Boudro's), and took in a movie (Inception)-- which we really enjoyed but which gave me a serious brainache for the rest of the night.

But back to the food. Our dinner was one of those meals that you keep reliving for the next 24 hours, and I don't mean in a food-poisoning kind of way. Do you ever eat something so delicious, that you don't want to forget the taste of it on your tongue, and you imagine the flavors over and over, so that you can attempt to remember how fabulously tasty it was? That's the kind of meal it was.

First, they make some serious guacamole at the table for you. Fresh lime and orange juice, avocado, red onion, salsa with blackened tomatoes and chilies, cilantro, and sea salt, oh my. We'd cleaned the bowl out before I could bear to put down a chip and pick up my camera:

Derek had the Gulf Yellowfin Tuna [Marinated in achiote, roasted poblano butter, served with
smashed potato cakes and citrus tomato fennel chutney]. Yum.

I had the Grilled Portabello Tostado [On house made corn tortillas with black bean puree and queso fresco, served with jicama slaw, avocado and pico de gallo]. Double yum.