To celebrate nine years of coupledom, I took the rein for a change and surprised Honey with a celebratory, ceremonial and cultural Moroccan meal at the exotic Imperial Fez. This Buckhead gem exudes the sights and spicy scents of Morocco in it’s dark and seductive dining room, making it appropriately easy to channel the epic romance of Casablanca (though Honey interrupted my romantic interlude to remark that it actually reminded him of an Adam Sandler flick.)
Shoes were left at the door as we imparted on our adventure. We dined on the floor and, after the ceremonial hand washing, experienced the earthiness of eating with nothing but our hands. All the while, belly dancers seduced us with beauty and flames on the traditional Wednesday evening Night of Fire. I could try to recount the details of the veritable price fixe, five course meal but I was so smitten with my date and engaged in the experience that I certainly wouldn’t do it justice. Suffice it to say that this place is not just a restaurant, it’s a destination!
On top of our extraordinary night out, Honey arrived home from work (early!) with the requisite roses and chocolates AND the go ahead to finally recover the antique French chair he sweetly purchased for our second anniversary back in 2004. Nine years later, I’m more in love with this man than the day I became his wife in the hallowed halls of the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist on a rainy Savannah afternoon.
Pinch me because I feel like the luckiest gal in the world!