…a little establishment, a restaurant and small hotel, called The Lauren And Debbie, our waitress… boy, did she know her wine, and she was ebullient about the food that we were about to eat. It started with the olive oil. I’m not a big fan of olive oil. But this was the olive oil that made me understand (not necessarily what we were doing in Vermont) but what olive oil is really about, I don’t know what herbs the chef had added to it but it was served with very thin slices of bread, sour dough and whole wheat, so you didn’t feel incredibly guilty that you couldn’t stop dipping it in the most amazing olive oil you’d ever had. Three types of salmon, home-cured (sort of like gravlax) that was skewered with a caper berry and a dollop, a rather large dollop, of crème fraiche; a thick salmon fillet with a teriyaki sauce but it was way better than that, and a salmon tartar with a fresh wonton rolled around it like an eggroll. And maybe a little bit of miso, I can’t remember. But it was amazing. Simply amazing. And I’ve had a lot of salmon in my life. Anna, meanwhile, was losing her mind over her salad. “Mom, what is this?” And she held up a tiny delicate sliver of a yellow thing that was the tiniest baby summer squash you’d ever seen and so sweet and barely delicately cooked that it was hard to fathom it was only one of about 13 ingredients nestled on the ridiculously fresh organic greens. “Mom, it has lima beans in it.” And they were, also, fresh, fresh lima beans, and also barely cooked, somewhat al dente and a different color than the frozen kind. And baby peas. And a salad dressing so light and sparkly that it almost danced and reminded one that there are, in fact, alternatives to balsamic vinegar. One of the things that was so startling about the meal was how delicate the whole thing was, how the flavors stood out from one another and nothing was overpowering. And there wasn’t a hint of garlic or onions anywhere, at least not anywhere noticeable.
And then there was the halibut which we shared and which was served on a bed (or rather an underlying sauce) of artichoke hearts, (fresh, yes, of course, they were fresh) with shrimp and white wine. At which point, I did something I’ve never done before, because I’m not really a foodie, I’m just a person who likes food and even though I have a food web-site, we don’t generally review star chefs but...I asked for the Chef’s name. His name is Dennis Vieira. And he most recently cooked at a restaurant in Killington, Vermont.

        We studied the dessert menu which featured Lemon Scented Crème Brûlée, Dark Chocolate Mouse with Filo Crisps
(yes, that's the way it was spelled), but Anna’s not eating sugar, so after we talked to him for awhile about the meal we’d just had and how amazing it was, I asked if he would make us a cheese plate and he did, and now, of course, I’m going to tell you it was the most amazing cheese plate I’ve ever had ever. All local. All Vermont cheeses, a blue cheese, a smoked gouda, a cheddar but that doesn’t do them justice, I don’t even like blue cheese unless it’s creamy and this wasn’t creamy and I couldn’t stop eating it. And then I did something else I’ve never done, I asked to see the kitchen. And there was something really strange about the kitchen. Dennis was the only person in it. And I can’t figure out how he made all those things…but he did. Dennis says he trained in Paris and I believe him. And he says he’s planning to stick around at the Lauren (unless somebody offers him something on the Ile-Ste-Louis). So, if anybody gets up that way, would you let me know how it is…and if you’re anywhere within shouting distance (four or five hours away) it might just be worth the drive.