The first course arrived—oysters nestled in beds of crushed ice, garnished with pearls of caviar and micro herbs.
Kane stared at the presentation, momentarily forgetting the awkwardness of Bob's arrival.
"You're supposed to eat them, not just admire them," Bob said, sliding into the seat directly across from Kane. He demonstrated, tipping an oyster shell to his lips.
Kane followed suit, eyes widening at the briny explosion of flavor.
"Holy—that's incredible," he murmured.
Bob grinned. "Wait until you try the wine pairing."
As if on cue, servers appeared with delicate glasses of pale gold liquid.
Kane sipped cautiously, then more enthusiastically as the crisp minerality complemented the oysters perfectly.
The truffle foam arrived next, floating atop a mushroom consommé so clear Kane could see the bottom of the bowl.
"This is ridiculous," Kane whispered, savoring a spoonful. "Do people actually eat like this all the time?"
