Today I meet the girlfriend at Jiraffe in Santa Monica. I actually didn't want to go but she insisted.

Jiraffe is typical LA; overdone, expensive and indulgent. My girlfriend ordered the New Zealand rack of lamb with a curried vegetable moussaka, jasmine rice and thyme-scented lamb jus; and crispy-skinned salmon with parsnip purée and sweet balsamic nage.
I requested the roasted All Natural Chicken with a garden ragout of sweet corn, English peas, caramelized pearl onions in a roasted chicken jus.

By the way, you can ordered Roasted Rabbit here. I actually thought about getting that, but didn't. We washed our meal down with Pinot Grigio. If it were up to me, I'd have preferred to go home and cook something more normal, but NO! this broad needs to be wined and dined at this superficial bistro.
_________________________
I hit her with the hammer on top of the head. She made a lot of noise and kept on making noise, so I hit her again.