Daniel Boulud may not know it, but he is responsible for our marriage. Well, at least in part. Here’s the skinny:
After meeting Melanie at a dinner party thrown by my ex-girlfriend (long story) and vowing to stay in touch, we got together for our first date in February 2003. It went something like this:
Melanie: “I have to go to an event at the Gourmet Magazine Kitchen for a wine client, why don’t you meet me there and we’ll go out to dinner afterwards?”
Me: “OK, sounds like a plan”
So, I met her at the event and while she worked her magic with her clients I proceeded to taste some wines (FYI: they were Spanish wines) and meet some of her colleagues, all of which was new to me, as I, at that point, didn’t really have any idea about what she did or who any of these folks were.
Eventually, the event wound down, and our time to go to dinner arrived. Melanie asked what I’d like to do, and since I had been at a wine event in a food magazine’s corporate kitchen (no lack of beverages and hors d’oeuvres there), I responded that “since we’d been already eating and drinking, why don’t we do something easy, like go grab a burger somewhere and talk.”
Well, Melanie thought that was a great idea. “I have just the place in mind,” she said, “and it’s right around the corner.”
She then proceeded to lead me to a place on 44th Street called DB Bistro, owned by a chef named Daniel Boulud, someone I’d never heard of. “He makes a great burger,” she said, “you’ll just love it.”