I’ve got that Friday feeling – the one where you feel slightly invincible because you worked so hard during the week and you’re about to eat the weekend alive, and you want to do something impulsive and slightly dangerous, like get a tattoo and/or take a few shots of whiskey.

And then you realize you kind of can’t, because you’re in charge of a little human and it’s actually not practical to get drunk and live dangerously, and you’d definitely pay for it tomorrow morning with the world’s worst hangover because you haven’t had hard liquor in over a year. Plus, do they even let babies in tattoo shops?

On the bright side, I get the same “Friday feeling” when we get Pho Saigon and I know I don’t have to do dishes, so my playlist of girls who rock is actually pretty fitting because I kicked dinner’s ass by not even having to make it in the first place. So there.

A busy Friday night at The Pickled Heron.

Our Friday night dinner at The Pickled Heron felt like a giant, warm hug; we hadn’t been there in an unfairly long time (we canceled our July 19th reservation to have a baby instead) so there was no better place to commemorate our first date without the little one. Everything was impeccable, of course, and now that I opened Pandora’s box of French food I plan to cash in on the grandparents’ request to cuddle with their grandson at least once a month to eat anything Todd and Daniela are making at our favorite French BYOB.

What we ate: seared foie gras with Concord grape jam; lobster cavatelli with hazelnuts, roasted cauliflower and crème fraîche; moules frites; seared black bass with Lyonnaise potatoes, broccoli and espagnole; chocolate pot de creme. Read More…