Pour Decision #4: My 24th Birthday Dinner

5-star restaurant experience… but my car didn’t get the memo.

My 24th birthday was yesterday, and I’ve reached a point where I truly value experiences over material things (though, let’s be honest, who doesn’t love a good gift?). I knew I wanted to go out for dinner. Preferably somewhere special that could offer a unique experience (perfect for writing about, of course). And naturally, I already had a spot in mind: Arlo Kitchen & Bar, an upscale modern American restaurant in Northport, New York. After all, what better occasion to ask your boyfriend for an indulgent dinner than your birthday?

We approached an inclined driveway that led to a striking modern building tucked away from view. It was embellished with twinkling Christmas lights, mahogany panels, jet-black accents, and a stunning wreath. As we followed the arrows toward the front of the parking lot, my heart skipped a beat when I realized there was only valet parking. Panic set in. I started frantically shoving the 17 empty plastic water bottles from the floor under the passenger seat, then tossed my entire closet of clothes into the backseat behind the driver’s side, praying the valet wouldn’t catch a glimpse. Off to a great start!

We stepped into the foyer of the restaurant and were warmly greeted by the hostesses, who ushered Chris and I through the main dining room to our seats. The atmosphere was intoxicating, sexy yet inviting, with soft, alluring music streaming through the space. Every table was draped in a crisp white cloth, adding to the upscale vibe. To one side of the room, a cluster of U-shaped booths caught my eye, each upholstered in a striking geometric pattern of oranges, whites, and greys. Black-and-white Hollywood glam shots lined the walls, flanked by light wooden recessed shelves. Our bench seats were tucked away in a cozy corner, offering a perfect view of the open floor plan. The table itself was small and intimate, just right for two, with two leather Castelvetrano olive-green booths. Honestly, the interior designer behind this place must be rolling in dough.

The first thing we did, of course, was order drinks. Chris went with a Pinot Noir to complement his New York Strip Steak, and my first drink was out of this world: a Matcha Gin Martini. This refreshing cocktail, made with Roku Gin, matcha, lemon, and lavender, was shaken to perfection. Light and crisp, this was the ideal pre-meal sip. It reminded me of a restored Te Fiti from Moana with its earthy aroma and flavor that gave me this grounded, almost serene feeling. After finishing that, I quickly moved on to my go-to: an extra dirty martini. The salty olive brine is the perfect antidote to the harsh bite of vodka. No bleu cheese in the olives though because I’m allergic to penicillium mold. And yes, that’s absolutely heartbreaking, because I love bleu cheese.

For the appetizer, we settled on fried calamari. A plate large enough to feed four was placed in front of us, and we wasted no time diving in. When I say it melted in your mouth, I mean it melted. I’m a huge calamari fan, but sometimes it can be a bit too chewy for my taste. Not this time. The light, crispy coating and perfectly tender octopus were absolutely to die for. For the entrées, as I mentioned, Chris ordered a perfectly cooked 45-day dry-aged New York Strip, paired with a side of crispy Brussels sprouts drizzled with balsamic and topped with dried cranberries. The Brussels were meant to be topped with pecans but unfortunately, I am allergic to those too.

Me being me, I studied the menu before arriving like I was preparing for the most important exam of my life. For my entrée, I ordered the seared tuna. Holy shiitake mushrooms, guys. Two slices of sushi-grade tuna, doused in a decadent ponzu glaze and topped with pine nuts, were served alongside sliced black mission figs, shaved fennel, and frisée salad, with bursts of silky avocado and a hint of lime for acidity. My first bite of tuna, fig, and ponzu had me seeing swirls of color in my mind, like Remy and Emile when they were eating fresh cheese and grapes in Ratatouille. I never would’ve considered pairing the two. The light umami flavor of the tuna and the sweet, fruity notes of the figs created a surprisingly perfect combination. And the greenery piled in the center of the plate? Exploding with flavor.

I have to address something here: I actually enjoyed the shaved fennel. If you know me, you know I despise fennel. I’ve avoided it for years, and my mom has even gone out of her way to avoid cooking Italian sausage with fennel because of me (thanks, mom). I’m not a fan of anything licorice-flavored and that’s all I taste when I eat it. But to my surprise, I found myself enjoying the delicate, mellow flavor of the shaved fennel in the salad. I couldn’t help but think that maybe my years of avoidance have led me down the wrong path in life.

To conclude the meal, Chris and I ordered the Baked Alaskan for dessert. I’d always seen photos and videos of this dish, so I was beyond excited to witness the presentation in real time. A pillowy meringue of whipped egg whites and sugar enveloped vanilla bean ice cream and a sliver of dark chocolate cake, all set aflame table-side and surrounded by a tart cherry coulis.

Having previously worked in hospitality public relations, I’ve had my fair share of earth shattering dining experiences. There were a few practices here that stood out to me, practices I shockingly had never come across before, that I would adopt in a heartbeat if I were to open my own restaurant.

1. A coat check for your leftovers. As I mentioned, the calamari portion was massive. We boxed it up and received a ticket to pick up our leftovers when we were ready to leave the restaurant. This was perfect because it meant we didn’t have to sit there with a giant takeout bag at the table!

2. A button slit in the napkin. I picked up the napkin and noticed a black line, thinking to myself, Who drew on this with a Sharpie? But no, the black line actually highlighted a slit in the napkin, designed to attach to a shirt button so you don’t have to tuck it in.

It’s a rare occasion that we get to dress to the nines and have a high-end hospitality experience. We loved every second of it and left the restaurant feeling satisfied, not stuffed. As we wrapped up our night at Arlo Kitchen & Bar, I couldn’t help but reflect on how this was one of the best dining experiences I’ve had, despite my trash-filled car and my lifelong disdain for fennel–but hey, pour decisions, right?