I need to know so that I can make reservations at this magical escape, a true southern California experience in the sense that the menu is based largely on the mystical vibrations of the food and not so much say, any known standards of taste. This idea is reinforced in their �philosophy� statement, which reads in part, �The food is prepared with love and is charged by our dedicated staff with the vibration of the violet flame for your personal gain, and perhaps transportation to a higher plane.� I am shivering with excitement at the thought of vibrating, flaming violet food, so I urge you to join me in mystical celebration of the Day of Eros, eating our flaming food and reveling in the gentle plinking of music as our waitperson Terra Infirma serenades us with original compositions for lute and gong.

I envision our evening to be the pinnacle of sensual and culinary experience, and as such I have perused the menu ( �All entr�es listed in order of esoteric vibration�) in advance, taking notes so that later, as we sit in the garden, I may gently guide you toward the dish most likely to fulfill your vegan dreams of essential purity. Perhaps the peeled baby asparagus with shaved earth remoulade, or the unwashed radish-and-radicchio herb-crusted redwood bark. For dessert, the puree of heightened gold dust, neatly coupled (in a nod to Cupid) with alcohol-free 14th-century Port, infused with lingonberry mold, will get you in the mood for love. The restaurant�s free-love policy smiles gently on public displays of affection, and on request, waitstaff will circle the lovers� table, joining hands in a Ring of Blessed Harmonic Voyeurism, and even jump into the fray on command.

I might suggest that we eat dinner elsewhere before we head off to our Mystical Experience, following a disclaimer on the website, which states:

...sometimes the Inn is not just an inn, or it may be just an inn, perhaps your passport to somewhere else in time

It sounds to me like if we arrive at the wrong time, we could find ourselves at a bus station, or a Tunisian lending library circa 1902, where we're likely not to be served any food. Or perhaps we�ll end up at that place where they filmed that Christopher Reeve movie that middle-aged ladies are so crazy about. You know, that romantic one where he travels back in time to wear Edwardian clothes and flit about in the gauzy halls of a far-off hotel. I think it�s called �Superman.�

Anyway, please come and join me for my festival of love. We can dance and sing and revel in the power of raw foods prepared by the hands of those unwilling to appreciate the benefits of microfiber or name-brand cosmetics.

All my love to you and yours,

Violet of the Seventh Ray