Submitted by Megan McCarthy, Sep 24, 2007 15:22

I left the south for New York City, first at Finch College, then NYU, then a series of Grown Up Apartments all around town. My father's design business brought him to New York nearly once a month, and he'd take me to dinner and a night on the town. Le Veau d'Or was our favorite restaurant, especially for me when I got to sit under the famous painting of the sleeping calf. Everything was perfect -- cuisine, service, ambience -- and I felt like an elegant New Yorker each time Dad brought me there. After dining, we'd go to jazz clubs where it didn't take much for the musicians to beckon Dad onstage to jam on piano with them. My father was a larger-then-life type guy, and he loved recreated the fabulous New York of the 50s and 60s for me. He was, I told him, my most fun date ever.

Now thirty years later, I've moved to suburban Westchester, my children are almost grown and gone, and my father passed away several years ago. I'm sorry to admit that I have not been back to the restaurant. Then one recent afternoon, I walked past it, realized with a shock what it was, and turned back. I opened the door, and there was the same perfect dining room, waiting in real life as it had stayed in my memory. This week my husband is taking me there for my birthday. I hope we get the table under that painting. I know my dad would love it.

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