Bistro 217...and Elvis

New factoid: it's illegal to wear a thong in South Carolina. Any kind of thong, either sex.

On one of our last nights of vacation we opted to go out to dinner and were trying to choose between Chive Blossom, a highly recommended place, and Bistro 217, a place mom heard about from the woman who did her hair last week.

We ended up at Bistro 217. Despite the sweltering weather, we ate outside on the cutest patio under a tent (it turned out it wasn't much cooler inside anyway), with lots of fans and misting water.

Our Albanian waiter, Elvis, with his soft eyes and French/Eastern European melting pot of an accent, was the perfect accompaniment to the most fabulous meal we've had in the two years we've been here.

First, the food. All apologies to Mary James but the shrimp and grits were beyond perfect. Instead of a bowl of grits the seared shrimp were served over a jalapeno grit cake that stayed crispy all the way through the andouille sausage, okra, and tomato espanole sauce. So perfectly fabulous and not like I had ever had it before.

But Heidi won the app contest with her seared tuna Napoleon: three layers of seared tuna on a crispy won ton piece with an avocado salad. Holy crap, this thing was amazing. Other apps included crab bisque (clearly the weather did not affect Baguer's choice) and carpaccio (the only disappointment of the meal).

Entrees: I had Jack's favorite fish to say - humu-humu-nuka-nuka-apuaa, or triggerfish. It was pecan crusted and served over a fried crab and rice cake with a coconut cream sauce and bok choy. The bok choy was quite tedious and the crab in the cake completely unnecessary but the rest was unbelievable. Cris ordered the biggest lamb shank I've ever seen, and ate every bite of it. Baguer got the flounder which looked good, and Heidi got the special halibut over a bevvy of sauteed vegetables. Mom had the carpaccio and Dad had the Asian BBQ ribs. Everyone was happy.

Now, Elvis, our server. We took bets that he spoke 4 languages. We were wrong. Six: Albanian, Italian, French, German, English, and Spanish. And as Heidi liked to say, he had bedroom eyes. After dinner Heidi and fam stopped to get us some ice cream at Latte Litchfield, a sweet little place Heidi and I found earlier in the day when we needed an iced caffeinated beverage to quell my headache.

As Heidi was chatting up the girl who had helped us earlier in the day, she was saying how we blew off dessert at Bistro 217 to come there instead. After being asked, Heidi was describing who our waiter had been and the girl behind the counter finally said, "Oh, the gigolo with the bun-wrap." Apparently, Elvis prefers the European beachwear style. This is when Heidi found out from the state trooper in Latte Litchfield that thongs were illegal in South Carolina.

What a truly fabulous night.