Perfection is attained by slow degrees; it requires the hands of time.
Voltaire
I have to admit that I lack the inherent ability to discern a meal that is partially perfect from a meal that is actually “perfect.” I also cannot appreciate the difference between an $8 bottle of Merlot and a much more expensive “selection.” It would be wasted on me for a pretentious server to explain that today’s specials include quenelles of hanger steak tartar with black truffle ice cream, or sea-urchin vinaigrette with frozen shiso leaf sorbet, because my mind just defaults to a safe sirloin with steak fries. I can however appreciate the abilities of those who can seemingly find perfection in foods. Don’t misunderstand, I do know bad food from good, but my definition of good is perhaps much broader than others I know. Growing up in the south has taught me two things. First, everything is better with BBQ sauce, and secondly, hot sauce kills everything.
On October 7th 2010, I shared a perfect dinner with my wife of 21 years. As we prepared for our perfect Anniversary night out, we read several restaurant reviews and plotted a map complete with several unique taste choices. 21 years ago we would have argued for hours as to where we would eat, and in the end, we would have settled for take-out on our living room floor while barely speaking. Looking back, those nights were also perfect however at that moment it seemed far from perfect. Maybe time changes our definition of perfection or, does perfection itself actually change?
Our decision on this special night was to simply drive toward Orlando and find something that “grabbed us.” North we drove on Orange Avenue and passed many casual and fine dining establishments, all with their own merits and reputations. Several restaurants sparked memories that we shared during our almost 25 years together, bringing us to laughter and remorse. Then we passed Julie’s Waterfront at 4201 S. Orange Avenue, as we had so many times before. “Why haven’t we ever eaten there?” my wife asked. “Not sure… I always wanted to.” I said. We drove further north on Orange Avenue considering restaurants in downtown O-town. Our conversations continued, centered around how Blessed we were to still be together, have our health and have great children and now grandchildren to give our lives meaning. Reaching the end of restaurant row in Downtown Orlando, we turned around and decided to return to Julie’s Waterfront. Pulling into the parking lot, my wife took a moment to potentially distance herself from her choice of choosing Julie’s. It wasn’t anything about the appearance, but more so because she knew I would make fun of her for eternity if it turned out to be a bust. “Relax sweetheart,” I said to put her at ease, knowing that I would indeed never let her forget if this turned ugly. Entering Julie’s, we were instantly met by server, Ms. Lauren Steele, a smiling warm-hearted woman who greeted us and told us to sit anywhere. My wife and I walked through the restaurant and chose to sit on the patio area outside, bordered by the lovely Lake Jennie Jewel. The patio was warmly decorated with colored lights and the view was amazing.
The sound of steel drums filled the air as the talented Steve Hendrickson played, causing my wife and I to reflected on our honeymoon in Cancun, a mere 21 years ago and we laughed at how time has changed many things, but not the memory of my food poisoning in Mexico. The weather on this Anniversary night was perfect. Cool breezes lifted the sounds of other patron’s conversations, laughter and steel drum music. The candlelight lit my wife’s beautiful face and I said, “This is perfect.” Lauren arrived almost instantly and was so engaging. She welcomed us to Julie’s and asked where we were from, what we felt like eating and offered us a drink to start off the evening. No pretentious special, no complicated meal descriptions… just a warm conversation through a smile that threatened to crowd out Lauren’s glistening eyes. My wife chose a beer and I realized that my happiness and gratefulness to her was causing me problems with simple decision-making. “Me too,” I think I said, struggling to reply. I sat there staring at my menu, but the words just didn’t seem to be registering in my brain. I just wanted to keep saying, “This is perfect.” It was then that my left-brain began to remind me that during our 21-year marriage, we had endured many challenges that were far from perfect, but at that very moment, on that very spot, overlooking a beautiful lake and a beautiful moonlit night… it was perfect. “What are you going to have hon?” My wife asked. I realized that I would have to focus on the menu and make a decision. I ordered coconut shrimp and sweet potato fries and my wife had shrimp scampi and vegetables. This is the point where a real food critic would dissect the emotional appeal of a well-presented appetizer of calamari and lightly battered onion rings. I am however, not a food critic so I will just say that I was content to simply order and return to my mumblings of how perfect the moment felt. Lauren came by again to deliver our drinks and engaged us in warm conversation about her life and ours and appeared sincerely moved by our 21-year celebration. Moonlight continued to glisten off the glassy lake and forced me to examine how much I loved my wife and our life together. My wife and I continued to remember so many moments that formed the foundation on which we built a solid life upon. It is truly hard to believe that we have been together for 21 years and still share dreams of the future like most newlyweds.
The steel drum music came to an end and musician Steve Hendrickson announced that he had a special event to announce. My wife looked at me in disbelief and embarrassed horror, “I want to wish this happy couple a wonderful 21st wedding Anniversary.” My wife and I smile and toasted our happiness. Lauren appeared with our plates and wished us a happy Anniversary. The food looked great! I know, that is hardly a critique, but to be honest… there is no plate of food that could have competed with the moonlight in my wife’s eyes. Since I did mention the food and restaurant, I will do my best to write like a real food critic. The shrimp was fresh and tasty, improved only by the sweet mango sauce that was generously provided. The sweet potato fries were thick and cooked to perfection. The sampling was generous and presented beautifully. My wife enjoyed a generous portion of shrimp scampi that was bathed in garlic butter to perfection and surrounded by crisp fresh steamed vegetables and sweet potato fries. Was the food perfect? Who knows, but it was definitely an integral element to a night that was perfect.
I wanted to write about the restaurant, the meals and the ambiance, but quickly realized that nothing is perfect. A food critic that expounds on the perfect pilaf may sell an image of perfection that others find falls short. So, given the fact that perfection is subjective, what makes me think that I can find perfection in anything? The concept of perfection is fleeting and difficult to define. It seems to me that striving for perfection may actually lead us further toward imperfection. As I said before, my taste buds don’t celebrate meals necessarily, but they do seem to work together with my other senses to remind me that sometimes life is nothing short of perfection. My wife shared a sample of her scampi with me and I a sample of coconut shrimp with her. We agreed that the food was incredible. In the brief time it took to sample each other’s food, my thoughts were flooded with fractals of memories. Images of our children’s births, first days of school, little league and graduations exploded through my mind. I felt my eyes filling with tears as I sat across from the lady who has at times defined the best of me and certainly witnessed the worst. “This is perfect.” I said again, trying to remain composed. Lauren then returned with an Anniversary present for my wife and me, a delightful tiramisu on a beautifully decorated plate, served compliments of the new owners on our special night. An amazing memory.
My understanding of “perfection” often eludes me, but I can say that I think it is a fragile and fleeting state that builds upon the good of the past, the hope for the future and the most important ingredient… the appreciation of the present. Good meals become great in retrospect and all memories become great as time passes and offers a perspective that only days gone by can contribute. Our perfect meal had those special ingredients that have been perfected through time. You can’t take the ingredients or recipes that others have used to make what they would consider a perfect meal, because the result just never tastes perfect. Our recipe is unique and one of trust, faith, respect and most of all a dash of selflessness. The factors that make our recipe perfect are to cook slowly and season to taste. Frequently filter out the shortcomings and disappointments from the mixture. Strain often for imperfections that occur and add endless love and support as often as possible. Serve generously with garnishes of appreciation and gratefulness.
Julie’s Lakefront was indeed a very special setting. Food critics may write about the food prepared by new owners Abel and Mercedes Carbajal, in words and culinary phrases that I will never know. I do know however, that we enjoyed a great meal with great people in a great setting and in that moment, it was perfect. So, next time you are striving for the perfect meal, and find yourself struggling with the decision of whether to have your diver-scallop sashimi served with black truffles or suspended in gelee, finished with sea-urchin to seamlessly blend the most rarefied tastes of earth and the sea… then don’t go to Julie’s Waterfront. If you are looking for a smattering of small elements that when mixed with love and moonlight, will create a surprisingly refreshing glimpse of perfection, consider visiting Julie’s Waterfront with someone you love and cherish, and maybe if the moon is full and the breezes gentle, you too will say, “This is perfect.”
Special Event at Julie’s:
October 17th from 12:00 PM to 10:00 PM
Grand re-opening lakeside with food and drink specials, live music and prizes (407) 240-2557
Disclaimer: The author has no personal or financial interest in Julie’s Waterfront and has not been reimbursed in any way for the above mention.
