LOTS OF LEFTOVERS : 1986: Year of the Search for Divine Heavenly Grits

If I had to pick my three favorite Orange County restaurants, the first would probably be Pavilion at the Four Seasons Hotel in Fashion Island. It’s spacious and serene, and the menu is a knockout. I’d have the hot veal pate in its thick tide of meat glaze, then the roast veal filet surrounded by delicate veal kidneys and a fleet of morel mushrooms, and wind up with. . . .

God, I can’t go on. I can’t think about the dessert menu without making little involuntary crooning noises. Not since high school have I spent more than 10 minutes poring over another dessert menu. Maybe . . . maybe, I’d take the hot turnovers filled with apricot and rhubarb in a thick apricot puree.

Then I’d drop over to Prego in Irvine, to enjoy the handsome Tuscan architecture and the grill kitchen with its revolving brass roasting jack holding sword-like spits of whole birds and joints of meat. I’d start with tortelloni di magro al burro , filled with chard and ricotta in brown butter with fresh sage, then have the dry-aged rib-eye steak with thyme, and then for dessert meringata fiorentina , layers of meringue separated by whipped cream and shaved chocolate.

And finally Ruby’s on Balboa Pier--just because I can’t resist a waitress wearing one of those silly ‘40s waitress caps made of cotton. I’d have a burger in a big puffy bun followed by a magnificently sloppy tuna sandwich that comes apart in your hands and gets all over your clothes, and eat them on the roof looking out over the ocean.