Fraiche Fear

We were invited to a Hudson Valley Farmer's Dinner at Terrapin, terrapinrestaurant.com, an up and coming fresh, open restaurant in Rhinebeck. We usually visit in November, stay at the Beekman Arms (the oldest Inn in America) and rotate the restaurants we try. Terrapin is a new addition to our rotation. The menu is creative, the venue is a former church and its walls display original oil paintings They have invited us (only us, I am sure) to a feast, or actually a dinner, entitled Hudson's Valley Farmers' Dinner.
All ingredients will be from Migliorelli farm, so we would be helping someone, or group of farmers, or maybe the town of Rhinebeck, or maybe the entire county, the state and therefore the USA. I dream big. Hubby Paul is less enthused, because on the menu is an item of questionable likability- pecan creme fraiche. see copy of the menu- note the soup-acorn squash and sour apple soup with Pecan Creme fraiche
This creme fraiche (Krehm FRESH) worries Paul. He asks "Can I eat around it, What is it?" I say with full confidence "This is not big deal, just a topping, like a dollop, like a swirl, like an island in the stream."
Cre`me fra^ich- "fresh cream" is a soured cream containing about 28% butterfat and with a PH of around 4.5. It is soured with bacterial culture, but is less sour and thicker than sour cream.
I decide to keep this written definition private. Paul's anxiety is not affected by my reassurances. I boldly go and make the resos at Terrapin; they are serving this menu during our overnight stay. I show Paul a pic, illustrating creme fraiche on a soup-wikipedia
Looks like one can eat around it if approaching it carefully with the correct utensil, probably not a soup spoon which might engulf it, maybe a straw aimed directly at its target. "I am sure you can probably eat around it," Hah, what do I know.

The day arrives, the trip is uneventful. The Rhinebeck weather is cool, and as early as 3PM, a moon-like sun is already sinking in a haunting grey sky perfect November day for creme fraiche and the Terrapin Harvest Farmers' Dinner.
I have my own concern. I figure that our dinner will come to an end just a tad before 9PM, and that is where I have my own fresh fear- Dancing with the Stars. I have grown to loathe it. I think it is the incessant, pounding music that if downloaded by pirates could be used as an instrument of torture.
My plan is to sit in the lobby, fire blazing, burning my face, with an Irish coffee steaming in my paws, while DWTS assaults the Beekman Arms from our room #24. I will then ascend to the Room #24 at its conclusion.
The meal starts off with a snag. Paul suggests I order the wine, I do. He says "We hate those grapes in your choice." This is all about fraiche fear, not grape fear. I tell him "when the waiter comes we will cancel" We do not. Waiter asks, "do you need time?" I inform him we are having a fight and to come back in 6 minutes. The couple across from us smirks. Paul- "what if I cannot drink it?" "I will drink it, you can get an O'Doul's." A low blow, a non alcoholic beverage. We settle -we drink it. Somehow we toast without malice, and get the first sips down. It is good! Waiter senses peace and asks he if should serve the soup. That would be the soup upon which the dreaded creme fraiche resides. It comes. Alleluia. (The restaurant was once a church, Alleluia) The creme fraiche is spread on a toasted bread, sort of a surfboard in the midst of the soup It can be picked out, and the soup freed of its fresh cream adornment. We eat around creme fraiche island and discover that the soup itself is so tart from the apples that we need the creme fraiche Thank goodness for it. Hail to the chef! The courses follow-salad short ribs and the Hudson Valley farmers smile upon us. What fresh food! We have saved the harvest, maybe the economy, may be the recession, just by one meal.
We walk back to the Inn. As I feared, the time is near 9PM, perfect for the insidious music of DWTS. I inform Paul I will be resting in the lobby by the fire with an Irish coffee and keeping, Robert, the night desk innkeeper company. Paul is incredulous. "You must come up." Nope. I plan to remain in the cozy lobby with the ghosts of my Revolutionary war heroes who once sat by this very fireplace Yes, George did sleep here also. I have a blast greeting the incoming guests. Paul returns to check on me. Great fire Great ambiance. Great Irish coffee. We reach detente. Paul will come and get me at the end of DWTS. He does, I enter our room, my fear of DWTS' pounding beat now stale and almost forgotten by my communion with the heat of the fire and my hot Irish coffee. The sounds of DWTS are gone from our room. Next show up at 10PM is Julianna Margulies' hit show"The Good Wife." We both like this one. That's me, the Good Wife. There are two Good Wives-Carol and Julianna I am a little pinkish, must be the Irish coffee.

Where is Liam? He stayed at his vacay place bestinshowpetresort.com
Liam's deluxe room reminds him of home
Liam listens to the dinner story thinks about it and sighs. Is there a show "Good Dog?"
woof, woof