Father's Day

On Father's Day, I did what any good, self-respecting Jewish daughter and wife would be expected to do: I fed the men in my life. No, I didn't cook (this was supposed to be a happy occasion, after all), and for once, I didn't bring in Jewish deli (although there certainly isn't anything wrong with some good corned beef and sour pickles). Instead, I made reservations at Orange Hill Restaurant (I have my assistant Michelle to thank for the idea and a chunk of the funds, since she gave me a gift card there a couple of years ago which, true to my form, still hadn't been used). In a word, this place rocked. Fresh shrimp, king crab legs, omelet station, you name it. The service was impeccable, the champagne flowed endlessly, and Lauren became the official photographer for the restaurant (seriously, that child is actually good at taking photos with our digital camera and loves it!).

Here's a few shots to memorialize the occasion:






This may look really cute, but believe me, we paid for letting her have this much sugar later that afternoon:




It was a wonderful way to spend time with the family (even though we wish all of our family could have been there), and we would absolutely return to the restaurant for another holiday brunch (so feel free to keep the gift cards coming . . . . )