… to talk about the sea bass. I was tired last night, forgive me.

When we got in last night, we were both exhausted and went to our respective rooms for a bit. Around 7, Natalie knocked on my door and suggested that we go to find the conference registration booth and take care of that, since trying to register on the first morning of a conference is always a bit of a challenge (especially when you’ve pre-registered and all you need to do is pick up your name badge).

I changed out of my loafers (they take up more room in my suitcase, so I wear them on the plane) into my rugby shoes (blue suede … I get a ridiculous kick out of them) and had put on a sweater to replace the button down shirt I was wearing [this will have relevance momentarily], and we went down to find the conference registration. All of the conference rooms appear to be directly above the casino gaming floor – after I’ve attended a few sessions, I’ll let you know whether they spent any money on soundproofing. The Wedding Chapel is also on the conference center floor, lest anyone forget for a moment where we are. Registration had closed 5 minutes earlier, but one of the volunteers was nice enough to give us our stuff anyway.

Natalie — who still wasn’t feeling well — suggested that we just have dinner in the hotel. I certainly didn’t feel like maneuvering the pickup truck out of the parking spot to go find something else in Lake Tahoe (because there wasn’t a whole lot that we passed on the way here, and we weren’t willing to find out if that trend continues in the other direction). In the hotel directory, there was a description of a place on the 19th floor of one of the other towers that overlooks the lake. It sounded ‘homey’ and like we might be able to find something there that didn’t involve dancing girls on the bar.

So we go up to the 19th floor, and we walk out into a plush, dark wood and deep fabric sort of place, with waitresses in stiletto heels and slingback dresses … and here’s me in my sport shoes and natty sweater and Natalie in the same outfit she’s been flying in all day … and without a waver of a smile, they seat us. And then we see the menu.

Now, let’s have an understanding here. I’m not against paying a ridiculous amount of money for food. I am, however, on a business trip with a $41 per diem, and three-quarters of the items on the menu are easily out of our price range (some of them would be out of our price range if we ordered one of them and split it between us). I can get out of the per diem, but then I have to turn in receipts for every single meal that I want to be reimbursed for (and accounting still might ask for a justification, and I don’t know if “utter lack of reasonably priced comestibles” is one of their standard justifications.)

Natalie and I both suffer from the same mental illness; i.e., we just couldn’t bring ourselves to get up and walk out of the restaurant, so we stayed. Natalie ordered a ceasar salad — at $10, it was more expensive than the one I had at LAX, and less filling. I quibbled back and forth, and finally decided that we both couldn’t order the cheapest thing on the menu, and so I ordered the sea bass ($28). It looked reasonable, as it is served with risotto, lobster broth, and baby shrimp.

Oh, just so we’re clear, it was dark by that time, so even though we were sitting right next to the window, we couldn’t see much.

Natalie’s ceasar salad was, in all honesty, artistically arranged, and featured bleu cheese instead of the usual parmagian. The sea bass was … it was good. I very much enjoyed it. It was also about the size of my cell phone. There were two two-inch squares of pan-fried seabass, about an ice-cream scoop’s worth of risotto, 2 baby shrimp, and a sauce that was extremely light in flavor despite being dark brown. And I looked at it, and the moment the waiter left, I said … “this plate is $28.”

The creme brulee was good, however. It came in an egg cup ($9). The good news is that last night didn’t put me off of my diet. The bad news is that I woke up this morning (at 4:30) starving, and am waiting around for a reasonable hour to eat the granola bars I bought in Reno because god knows what we’ll be able to find for lunch.

The problem with me is that I am too crass to be haute-anything. There are, however, rumors of a food court at the casino across the street. stay tuned for more details…