Societi Bistro - August 31st

For what might be the first time in my life, I'm not in the mood to go out for dinner. This is far from ideal when I'm not only starting to write about food, but also on the way to one of my favourite restaurants, for one of my once-every-few-months meetings with one of my favourite boys, Donnie. Our relationship history is that of a typical "on again, off again" affair, without it ever being one hundred per cent on, and spans five years. It's safe to say I'm excited to see him.

He'd asked me to choose the restaurant, and I'd picked Societi Bistro because he'd mentioned that he felt like Italian and Societi does great pizza and pasta, and because the restaurant has never failed to impress me. The portions are small, but the food is delicious, the staff are friendly, and the atmosphere unfailingly warm.

I'm eager to order the Doolhof Dark Lady of the Labyrinth Pinotage that I had the last time I was here with my friend Gray, but none is available, so the next choice is Donnie's. He opts for the Hartenberg Cabernet Sauvignon Shiraz, which I - never a fan of Shiraz in any form - can describe only as watery. He enjoys it, and I don't tell him my thoughts, which might say I lot about me. Of course, it could also say a lot that I've chosen a restaurant where the lighting is dim enough to have once prompted Gray to remark that "I feel like I should be proposing to you, or you should be selling me drugs." It's the space clearing around us that makes me realise that the atmosphere is becoming altogether intimate. As it's Monday night, many of the patrons are taking advantage of Societi's special: in conjunction with the Labia Theatre, they offer two margarita pizzas and two movie tickets for R70. While others move off to their movies, we keep our waitress waiting because Donnie has a lot to tell me: his best friend has just revealed that he's gay, he's moving into a new place, and he's quitting his job because he felt that it was going nowhere. When we do eventually order, it's the Fettucine Con Limone, made with lemon, cream, and parsley, for me. I'm disappointed, but am perhaps partly to blame for this - I've ignored my longing for the pizza I've had before and followed Donnie's advice and my own compulsion to try something entirely different. The complaint that it's too tangy sounds a little silly when describing something that does in fact have "lemon" in its name. The pasta is well prepared and presented, and a substantial portion in its "Mains" incarnation (R60), but I'd advise ordering it as a starter (R40) before moving onto something less delicate and interesting and more enjoyable and satisfying. I am jealous of Donnie's Mushroom, Bacon and Rocket pizza (R60) - very savoury bacon and mushroom with piles of impressively fresh rocket. He passes over a slice, although he, a self-professed "rocket man" loves it too, particularly the fact that it was an authentic, not perfectly round, shape.

This is what life would be like with him - being adored and looked after - but I am very used to being single. I like making all my own choices, and the minute I'm with someone I feel my opinions being easily swayed.
"Is he a dessert guy?" Gray has asked about Donnie. I do not trust non-smokers (I'm a non-smoker myself); Gray does not trust people who must have dessert.
"He's a whatever-you-prefer guy." I replied. This evening, though, he insists that the meal doesn't end at mains.

Dessert is from the specials menu: Sticky toffee pudding, and a cheese platter (around R35 and R40 respectively, if memory serves), both of them shared. Donnie was delighted by the waitress's willingness to provide vanilla ice-cream with the pudding in place of the advertised caramel version; I am troubled by its slightly burned corner. This is test of optimism if ever I saw one, and I think I just failed. Our waitress tells us that the three cheeses that will be on our platter will be blue rock, brie, and camembert, but as one of them is very hard and tastes rather like parmesan, it seems that she might have been mistaken. All three cheeses are delicious, but I would have preferred to have at least one conventional biscuit or piece of bread alongside the admittedly charming breadstick and slices of melba toast.

It's getting late, and I'm getting tired, and when Donnie suggests we have coffee I say that I'm just too full - not, incidentally, a lie. I might be seeing him next week when I'm in his part of the world, or it could be months until we meet again. Until then, he has a rut to escape and I have places to go and people to see. He praises my choice of restaurant again, and tells me he likes my hair, and I wish him luck for the big changes he's about to make happen. I realise that I feel proud of him, then we part ways with the most chaste of kisses on the cheek. Until next time.