Chow Bella

So, yesterday was my FIFTH wedding anniversary with my beautiful wife Bubba. It being a special occasion and all, we decided to splurge, and hit her favorite restaurant, Mr. Chow's. Chow's - New York is where I took her on the night I proposed, so it seemed appropos to mark the occasion with a return visit, Beverly Hills style.

Chow's is located in the heart of the high rent district in Beverly Hills. A block or two from the swanky shops on Rodeo Drive and Wilshire Blvd., it's a MAGNET for celebs and paparazzi alike, much like the Ivy I "reviewed" a few weeks back. (And if anyone's wondering, this figures to be my last high-end restaurant review for the foreseeable future. A Fatburger, Astro Burger comparison is far more likely). Sure enough, we pull up to the valet, and the photogs are right outside. Not a Britney level frenzy, but a definite presence. "No pictures, please! It's my anniversary!" I exclaimed, before humbly realizing they were not there for us.

We get inside, and in a bit of real estate irony, it's actually more compact than its New York counterpart. Go figure. Prime time on a Saturday night, inevitably our table was going to be "just a few minutes." No problem. We're in no rush. It gave us a chance to survey the crowd. It was a textbook L.A., chi-chi establishment medley mix of folks. You had the tourist crowd, splurging for the big feast on the vacation, hoping for a celeb sighting to tell the folks back home. You had the Hollywood players and the wannabee players. I can't tell you how I knew the difference, but I knew the difference. There was a gaggle of women, out for girls night out.

And then there were the celebs. Two in fact. See if you can guess which one the paparazzi were staked out to get a picture of. Both are versatile male actors. Both have had careers probably spanning 40 years or more. One is a titan of celluloid, the other of the idiot box. All right, I've kept you in suspense long enough. We saw American icons Clint Eastwood and Tom Bosley ladies and gentlemen! That's right, Dirty Harry and Mr. C. Does it get any better than that? I fought my urges to tell Clint that I am in fact, feeling lucky, and to give Tom the Fonzie two thumbs up, and leave well enough alone.

Anyway, the night was about my wife and myself, not two people I've never met before. The food was exactly as it was back east, which is a good thing. Despite the pretensions of the place, the staff was actually very friendly, surprisingly short on airs. And most importantly, Bubba and I had a beautiful night, as we commenced with the beginning of the first six years of infinity.