So we have reservations tonight at Chez Panisse Cafe to celebrate a friend’s birthday. I’m super excited about the “grilled Wolfe Ranch quail with Romano beans, roasted figs, watercress, and sage,” and hopefully someone will order the “Becker Lane Farm pork loin roast with wild fennel, peperonata, and fried okra.” I mean, there’s not much I won’t do for figs and fried okra, and everybody knows you pick your entree based upon what it’s served with. What good is a perfect leg of lamb if you have to eat it with polenta? (Yes, I admit, you can take the girl out of Alabama, but…if I’m going to have polenta, why not just go all the way and eat grits instead?)

Unfortunately, the earliest available slot was 9:30. Maybe I’m showing my age, or maybe I’m just not very European, but I’m thinking 9:30 is way too late to sit down for dinner. Cocktails? Bring them on! Dinner? I’m just not hungry. I mean, I’m hungry for chocolate, but that’s different.

In your opinion, how late is too late for dinner?

This post originally appeared on my SFGate blog.