Last night I was treated to some serious VIP indulgence at a chic new club on Richmond Street that my best boyfriend Mike Chalut is helping to launch, Black Moon. I don’t think I have yet witnessed the kind of star treatment that I received last night from everyone involved.

Now, Black Moon actually opened its doors a few months ago, but due to its location and possibly some lack in promotion, it has remained relatively under the radar. It is just off of the main Richmond Street bar strip, and I am not sure it was consistently open. Well, with Canada’s VIP Host Mike Chalut on the job, that’s about to change. Mike has a knack for filling up a place, and with his expertise added to exceptional service and unbelievable cuisine, I am predicting lineups around the corner for this one.

I was feeling extra special about this invitation. The re-launch of Black Moon is actually not until next week. Mike has arranged a media launch with some very prominent folks on the guest list. But last night he was throwing a private party for one of his best girlfriends, so he invited my partner and me for a private dinner to preview the place, even before the media. That guy really knows how to make me feel like a special super-duper-VIP.

And the place did not disappoint. The moment we walked through the door, Michelle and I were treated to drinks and shown to a private table near the window. My first impression of the place could be summed up in four words: absolutely, stunningly, breathtakingly gorgeous. It’s an intimate little lounge, with the perfect lighting to give you the feeling of privacy while still maximizing the space. Sheer curtains provide some separation in the room without obstructing or cluttering the place. And a bright globe of lights over the bar draws attention away from the fluorescents of the business strip buildings outside the window and back to where it should be directed.

I was fortunate enough to have a conversation with one of the owners, Amir Azizi, who took the time to come out and sit with us for awhile to talk about the restaurant. He still has some changes in mind, but he seemed pretty satisfied with how the room is shaping up. He was polite and made it very clear to us that we were to be taken care of this evening. I’m telling you: super-duper star treatment!

The server soon came by with the bread course—gorgeously presented, and with olive oil and balsamic infused with Parmesan. It’s always the simple things that impress me.

Then came the vegetarian dishes. I am a vegetarian with an aversion to mushrooms, so I am aware that when I go to restaurant openings, particularly in fine dining establishments, I will be lucky if I see anything beyond the bread course that will meet my tastes. But the head chef, Kai Zyganiuk, had been made aware of my dietary restrictions, and had made some beautiful tasting dishes for me.

First came a dish of heirloom tomatoes with baby greens and herbs, drizzled with olive oil and sunflower seeds. Delicious. And then came a second dish with roasted asparagus topped with julienne tomato, shaved Parmesan, fresh basil, and truffle oil, flanked by what I considered the pièce de resistance: freshly made ricotta cheese, locally acquired in Toronto’s own Little Italy, wrapped in bok choy, with porcini mushrooms. I know I said I don’t like mushrooms, but you know, I think Kai Zyganiuk may just be the man to change my mind about that. It was veritable food porn.

Then came the pasta course, a trofie pasta with tender, pulled chicken and a pistou porcini sauce. I had only a small bite of a chicken-free part, and it was very good. I assigned Michelle the role of tasting all meat-and-fish dishes, a duty which she carried out with relish. She was impressed with the pasta. It wasn’t quite as al dente as she prefers, but even she admits that she likes her pasta practically raw. From my one bite, I would say it was just about perfect.

After the pasta course, Mike invited me back to the kitchen to meet Kai in person and to see the chef in action. They were busy preparing the salmon dish. It’s a tight space, and they’re running a tight ship back there. Kai explained to me some of what he put into the meals—the man is nothing short of an artist.

I was also introduced to Abdi Ghotb, Black Moon’s other owner, who was on the line along with Kai and the other cooks making the magic happen. I was impressed to see a restaurateur involved in the actual workings of the restaurant. In my own past experience as a cook, restaurant owners were often removed from the day-to-day operation of the restaurant. Mr. Ghotb is both owner and chef, and I think his passion for the place comes through.

Soon the salmon was brought out to the table, atop a bed of delicately braised vegetables. Michelle once again took over the role of official food taster, and she was instantly in ecstasy. Now, I should tell you that Michelle is extremely picky about salmon. It is often served too undercooked for her comfort level, or else dried out from overcooking. This filet, she reported from between orgasmic bites, was grilled to absolute perfection. It was topped with a mild, slightly sweet grilling sauce that made a pleasant contrast to the savoury vegetables. She was in heaven.

There were other dishes on offer, but at this point were both more than sated with what we had been served. Kai made a point of coming out to speak to us about the meal. He was concerned that as a vegetarian I would be leaving his restaurant hungry, and asked if there was anything more he could do for me. I happily reassured him that I had been well-treated, but I certainly appreciated the special care he took to be sure of my satisfaction.

We enjoyed a few more drinks and just soaked up the atmosphere for awhile. The always fabulous Manny Mark, a consultant to Black Moon’s re-launch, sat with us for a bit and talked about how they plan to overcome some of the issues that the lounge had suffered in the past. The bar is exactly one short block from Old City Hall, right beside Sterling Tower and the surrounding Bay and Richmond businesses, and thus will make the perfect spot for a business lunch or let’s-knock-off-early drinks. And with the right host welcoming people in, it will make a swank weekend hotspot.

Even as we sat there I noticed on multiple occasions passersby taking notice of the place, peering through the window and trying to get a fix on what was going on inside. Even at this private party there were some local celebrities in attendance. Interest is already generating. It’s gonna be hot. Trust me.

Near the end of our evening, a distinguished and jovial gent in a very expensive suit took a shine to Michelle and demanded that we have a few vodka shots with him. He didn’t seem like the type who would take no for an answer in this kind of situation, so we took him up on his kindness and joined the party at the bar. There was a great vibe, people just having a good time with each other. We tottered out after a couple of shots. No need to let things get out of hand. We were full and a bit buzzed and happily satisfied with the evening.

Black Moon is opening with a public launch on Friday, March 25. If you’re in Toronto and you want to get in early on what I think is going to something of a phenomenon, check it out: it’s at 67 Richmond Street West, and you can RSVP with my man Mike Chalut: chalut@rogers.ca. I highly recommend you make that reservation.

About a week ago, Mikey informed me that my presence would be required at the opening of a new restaurant in the village. So last night I went to the opening of Sugo. It was a private press-and-invite-only party that Mikey was hosting. The public opening takes place tonight.

Now, you know a no-account girl like me can never afford to turn down a free meal, much less drinks, so I was in, although I have to admit I was a bit sad to see that the restaurant and bar that had previously occupied that space was now gone. Voglie had been a popular place for the hot young hipster dyke set on a Saturday night, and had a great patio for, uh…sight-seeing in the summer. I was heartened to find out that the two women who had owned Voglie were still part of Sugo, however. They were simply bringing in Jimmy G., owner of Fuzion next door, O’Grady’s down the street, and another spot on the Danforth, as a business partner for the relaunch.

I ran into a friend yesterday and asked her if she was going to the opening. She works for one of Jimmy’s other restaurants, so I assumed she would be attending, but she said she wasn’t sure. She wanted to know the details of what was being offered, because she had had experience enough with Jimmy to know that he was usually too cheap to offer anything for free. He had even charged the staff for their drinks at the staff xmas party.

But I pulled out my little invitation and confirmed that it promised “complimentary drinks and a tasting selection from Chef Lia’s menu.” My bitter employee friend remained unconvinced, but she could not deter me—I had even invited my BFF/First Wife the Kabuki Librarian to be my Hot Date for the evening.

Now, my First Wife is no slouch when it comes to playing the part of Hot Date. She rivals the fabulous femme fatale defense attorney I took to New Year’s Eve at Brassaii. I believe she also wore opera gloves! What is with all of these beautiful femmes who are willing to be seen in public with me?

So Kabuki showed up in her coach and we walked into the restaurant with Mike. We were among the first to show up, because Mike had to be there early. Jimmy introduced himself and welcomed us warmly. He was pleased to learn that I had spoken of the restaurant opening on my on-air events listings, and was very concerned about whether Mike had been pimping the event on his show.

And that’s about where the pleasantries ended. Almost immediately, there was confusion over the drink situation. It was just after the bar had poured the drinks we had assumed were complimentary, as suggested on the invitation, that Jimmy came over and informed Mike that in fact drinks from the bar were not open. There would be drink tickets, but they were only to be used at a satellite bar that would be serving beer. And just one type of beer at that. Ever the gentleman, Mike would not hear of us paying for the drinks we had just ordered, instead shouldering the tab himself despite my protestations.

We took our drinks and tickets and set ourselves down at a table near one of the three gorgeous fireplaces. It was cozy and pretty, and soon we were chatting with friends and enjoying ourselves. Not in the mood for second-rate beer, free or not, I bought my second gin & tonic while my Hot Date nursed her wine. Some folks from the radio station joined us and we had something of a party going.

My commercial producer Jonathan and his boyfriend showed up with glasses of wine. Apparently Jimmy had changed the rules, so wine was now being served at the satellite drink-ticket bar as well. I decided I would like a glass and Kabuki had reached the bottom of hers, so I went and grabbed some for us.

The place had picked up and the front room was wall-to-wall men. Mike was making his rounds and ensuring everyone’s comfort. I heard someone ask him about the food situation and, as if on command, my stomach responded with such a growl I could hear it over the din of the crowded room. That was a good point: where was the food? We had been there nearly an hour and a half and not a flight of appetizers had made the rounds. I don’t like to complain about stuff I get for free—um…mostly—but this was a restaurant opening, after all. One might expect food at such an event.

20 or 30 minutes later, a tray of food did arrive—miniature bruschetta on slices of baguette. One of my friends from the station gave up at that point. He had been up since his morning show started at 6 a.m. and he wasn’t a fan of tomatoes, so if this was all that was on offer, he was going to try his luck at the McDonald’s on Yonge.

Another 45 minutes later came a second tray of the same bruschetta bites. I took two this time. My Hot Date was looking less than impressed with the showing. I decided it was time for a second glass of wine, so I slithered through the muscles in the front room toward the satellite bar.

When I reached it, however, they had run out of the red, so the barman asked another server to grab more from behind the bar. The coworker returned with the news that Jimmy had nixed the wine and we were back to second-rate beer. There was just enough white left to fill a glass for my Hot Date, but as for me, I had to settle for the cheap shit. I returned to my table, crestfallen, drinks in hand.

Looking around, I noticed that most of the women I had seen earlier had left, and the room was almost entirely populated by men. In fact, Hot Date, myself, our friend from the radio station, and Michelle, who had just shown up after an evening at the Archive, were the only women in the back room, and from what I had seen wrestling my way to and from the bar, the stats weren’t much different up front. I thought back to the days of Voglie and sighed to myself.

It turns out that this gender distribution was no accident. I later spoke to one of the people who had interviewed Jimmy about his plans taking over the restaurant. He was saying that he wanted to host bear nights, men’s events, and whatever he had to do to erase any trace of the dyke bar reputation that Voglie had achieved. He wanted to wipe that right out like a stinking, distasteful stain.

Now, I can handle a restaurant that doesn’t want to give me the drinks I want. And you know, food would be welcome, but still a side concern. But no lesbians?! That is just going too far. It’s just all sausage, and still nothing to eat!

Although service had begun on some mediocre flatbread pizzas—by the way, I am so over flatbread pizza; everyone seems to be serving them these days and I find them an utter snore—I decided it was time to get out of there.

Let me tell you, from an industry point of view, this had to be the worst restaurant opening I can imagine. You offer drinks, then you offer only those drinks and not these, and then you offer these drinks too, but then change your mind and go back to serving only those. And you have invited the press to this event! I went home from this restaurant opening and immediately opened my fridge in search of something to eat—I’m thinking I probably won’t be going back.