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Destinations, Dreams and Dogs - International adventure with a fast-track family (& dogs) of Old World values, adopting the Russian-Italian-American good life on the go…!

Petya’s Power Lunch

A stone’s throw from Ralph Lauren, Saks, Bulgari, and Tiffany’s, our son led us through the revolving doors (“Cool!” exclaimed the other kids) to his very first power lunch.  Sponsored by his boss as a reward for hard volunteer work, Petya was flying high as he announced to the maitre-d’ his reservation for six.

“Yes, certainly,” the gentleman nodded, leading us to our Valentine’s luncheon.

A few years before, this same son was an orphan, trying to catch good luck coins tossed by others near Red Square.  He couldn’t stand the thought of people tossing away money.  Now, here he was, 15 years old, a young man of remarkable talents, building his empire, possessing a certain charming je ne sais quoi, treating us to a power lunch.

The restaurant boasted a travel theme, with one section imitating the Orient Express.  Brass luggage racks holding old leather suitcases and trunks perfectly mirrored the interior of the trains, along with velvet banquette-booths.

Our section boasted models of historic cruise ships, lines from every possible provenance.  Art Deco pictures lined the walls, with a train track encircling the ceiling.  The usual train that wound its way around the restaurant, alas, was out for repairs.  We had anticipated seeing it during its every-17-minute-appearance-with-a-toot.

The third seating section of the restaurant boasted airplane travel with biplanes and other large replicas hanging from above.  The children oohed and aahed, Petya having been here years before, but for the others, it was their first time.

We enjoyed a delightful luncheon that tasted better than most power lunches.  The sentiment behind the day made all the difference.  The children tried (and succeeded) in being pleasant dining partners for their older brother.

The six of us ordered modest meals, the three younger children enjoying desserts of vanilla ice cream (Pasha), brownie ice cream (Mashenka), lemon sorbet (Sashenka—it’s cold!), and a hazelnut-chocolate pyramid mousse surrrounded by strawberry-cream hearts (Petya, but of course, who handed me a melt-in-your-mouth spoonful).  Our waiter informed the man of the day that he must visit the lower level where, ensconsed among the bar, there were more designer cars from decades before, following in the Art Deco theme.

We smiled at Petya in his element, shiny cars catching his eye and foreign patrons from the bar coming over to chat with he and Benedetto.  The other children watched, wide-eyed, while I snapped pictures of it all.  What a joy to see our son grow and be blessed, even as he blessed others.

By nightfall, he had written his thank you note, and fell asleep, both elated and exhausted over the events of the day.



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3 Comments : Leave a Reply

  1. avatar Sybil says:

    I can feel the joy in your heart for him. If only we could give deserved opportunities to every child that doesn’t have them.

  2. avatar SLB says:

    I would venture to say that this was a day never to be forgotten. The joy of sharing being the most important part of all! Beautiful!

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