I like really good food.

I like really good food at really good restaurants. The kind of restaurants with white tablecloths and dim lighting. The kind where the waiters place your napkin for you and come get the crumbs off the table between courses with those cool crumb scoop things. The kind where the menu hasn’t changed in a really long time and you know you’re going to go home satisfied.

Turns out there’s a name for the kind of food usually served at that kind of place: classic continental fare.

When you hear “classic continental fare”, it usually means:

• Rich sauces (béarnaise, demi-glace)
• Roasted meats and poultry (dry aged porterhouse, rosemary roasted chicken)
• Seafood (for Darren, of course!) poached with butter or served oscar-style over steak
• Fresh vegetables, served crisp or creamed or au gratin
• Table-side service or flambé dishes (Chateaubriand, bananas Foster)

It’s the kind of food you’d imagine ordering in a designer dress, even if you’re just there in a cardigan. (And let’s be honest. I’m always in a cardigan.)

And it turns out, there’s a place that’s been serving that exact kind of food for more than a hundred years. A HUNDRED YEARS.

About ten miles from where my parents were living when my dad was in med school at UCLA there’s a restaurant in the middle of Hollywood that’s still going.

It’s called Musso & Frank Grill, and it opened in 1919. 

They say the booths are deep red leather. And the menu is printed in gold script.

And the food? Still continental!

But I didn’t find out about Musso & Frank from Yelp. Or from someone’s list of best old restaurants in L.A.

I found out about it because I was looking up a movie scene.

There’s this moment in Ocean’s Eleven –  the 2001 version – that I’ve always loved. I happened to watch it again today while baking brownies, and I found out it was filmed at Musso & Frank.

It’s a little scene. You could blink and almost miss it.

Brad Pitt (Rusty) has his head on his arm, watching a TV above the bar.
George Clooney (Danny) is next to him – not looking at him, just close enough to speak without raising his voice.
 

They don’t face each other. They don’t move.

Then Danny asks:

“You think we need one more?”

No response.

“You think we need one more.”

Still nothing.

“We’ll get one more.”

That’s it.
That’s the whole exchange.

No eye contact. No follow-up. No discussion.

Just a sentence, spoken three times.

And a decision.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that scene.

Because how often do we do that?
We ask the same question twice, hoping someone else will answer it for us.
We say something just to see if anyone agrees.
We wait for someone else’s nod. 

We wait for a green light. 

We want a little reassurance before we move.

Do I speak up, even if it’s awkward?

Do I apply, even though I’m not sure I’m ready?

Do I stop pretending this isn’t bothering me?

Do I follow through on the thing I said I wanted?

Do I stop making excuses?

Do I send the message?

Do I take a break – a real one?

Do I admit I’ve changed my mind?

Do I say yes, even if it scares me?

Do I say no, even if it disappoints someone?

Do I finally let myself want it?

Do I leave it alone this time?

Do I try again?

We’ve said it once.
We’ve said it again.

But if we’re being honest, deep down, we already know.

And maybe now — it’s time to channel our inner Danny:
Okay. “We’ll get one more.”

Rick Hanson, Ph. D. – one of my favorite experts on happiness – puts it this way:
“If you are like me and every single person I have ever known who has decided to trust one’s own deep self, you will find so much that’s right inside: so much knowing of what’s true and what matters, so much life and heart, so many gifts waiting to be given, so many strengths.

Be your whole self; it’s your whole self that you can trust. 

This day, this week, this life – see what happens when you bet on yourself, when you back your own play. See what happens when you let yourself fall backward into your own arms, trusting that they will catch you.”

If you’ve been hovering over a decision – one that doesn’t need a vote or a committee – 

this might be your moment.

I can’t wait to hear about the green lights you’re giving yourself.  And if you need help with any of them (well, any of them that don’t involve breaking into a vault…..), I’m your gal.

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PS If you liked this post – or any others, I’d love you to pass me and my work on to a friend.  They can find out much more about me here if they’re interested!