“Be downstairs by 4:45, dressed and ready to board the shuttle to 21 Royal,” our host, Deborah, said. (Deborah is not her real name.) Our group of nine put on quite a show! I was the only one not wearing a gown because I lost all of mine in the fire. Everyone else wore red, silver, and black gowns, as well as deep blue and green, with each of us taking pictures in front of the vast, beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the lobby of Disney’s Grand Californian, an impeccable Craftsman-style hotel.
Deborah is a die-hard Disney fan. For her milestone birthday, she saved up money for years, then invited the most important people in her life to Disneyland for a one-of-a-kind sensory and culinary adventure that few others get to experience.
Like most people, I had never heard of 21 Royal in the New Orleans section of Disneyland. They are more likely to have heard of Club 33, another exclusive experience at Disneyland that requires a membership. To dine at 21 Royal, the only thing you need is to fork over beaucoup bucks — over $15,000. Saying Deborah’s friends felt like royalty for this over-the-top treat is an understatement. I felt honored to attend since I only knew Deborah well and was an acquaintance of three others. Since the fire, I’ve had some emotional paralysis when around new people, but this occasion called for me to put on my fanciest big girl panties and attend.
21 Royal is above the Pirates of the Caribbean and was initially built as Lillian and Walt Disney’s private residence, where they could host celebrities and bigwigs. Walt died before they could move in. After many years as an art gallery, the apartment was recently turned into an ultra-luxury restaurant. The space is sumptuous without feeling overwhelming, yet it is also full of whimsy. The kids’ bedroom features a train that runs around the top shelf. You press a button on the side of the guest bedroom, and a “Jungle Book” projection appears. The mirror in the dining room shows Tinkerbell appearing and “painting” pastel flowers throughout the evening.
The dinner planning began weeks ahead of the actual event. We were all asked to submit any food allergies or preferences, and the 21 Royal staff would accommodate them. After arriving, one of the butlers announced, “Here’s to a group of beautiful Disney princesses!” I replied, “Excuse me, I’m a queen, not a princess,” and I was wearing my tiara to prove it. I attended as Queen Elsa from “Frozen” and wore ivory and off-white. My hair is platinum, so I cleaned up really well! Who needs a gown to be elegant?
The first dish was an exquisite Dover sole, followed by a mushroom carpaccio with roasted chanterelles; the menu listed this course as “A Couple of Fun-Guys,” and they definitely were! The parade of delicacies continued as the chefs came out and discussed each dish. I can be a downer sometimes, so I quietly asked the chef, “Do they have to kill the sturgeon to harvest the caviar?” he repeated my question for everyone and answered, “Yes.” “Do they eat the sturgeon or does she go to waste?” “No, they eat the entire sturgeon,” he replied. That allowed me to enjoy the Golden Osetra caviar.
Eventually, we took a break so they could clear the table. We enjoyed five stunning courses, each paired with wine. The dessert was a molded golden apple sitting atop a delicious steamed pudding. Our meal was perfectly timed so that, afterward, we could go out on the balcony to watch the “Fantasmic!” show and fireworks.
We were all stunned by the caring treatment we received and so grateful to Deborah for being so munificent. (Not Maleficent!) Deborah is creative, magnificent, brilliant, warm, gorgeous and such a dear friend, with and without such an over-the-top gift for HER birthday! And I handled my post-fire social anxiety very well.
As a lead-up to Thanksgiving, it was vital for me to be around people other than fellow fire survivors. I’m proud of myself for not having a meltdown; well, maybe a few tears here and there. I sent a text to our Thanksgiving hosts, my dear friend, Kit and her husband, Larold, who just happens to be my first “ex-was-band.”
“Good morning. I wanted to give you a heads up. Both Ken and I are feeling pretty fragile, as this will be our first Thanksgiving without a house/neighbors/town. Everyone says that when you’re grieving, the ‘first’ of things is always tough. So, if we’re being too much of a drag, we’ll go sit in the car. If you could bring plates out to us, that’d be grand.”
Larold texted back: “Our goal is to give you at least one evening at peace, among friends in a cozy environment. We haven’t had a Thanksgiving here since before COVID. Besides, it gives us an excuse to clean up all our crap and dust once a year. If we have to, we might all be able to fit in our SUV with you.”
I truly have so much to be grateful for: wonderful friends, a perfect spouse, an ex and his wife whom I adore — and, after Thanksgiving, turkey sandwiches. I might even wear a gown to Thanksgiving dinner!
If you’re interested in my online creative writing class, email me at ellen@beautybitesbeast.com. Many of you have asked if there is a GoFundMe campaign to help us recover from the devastating loss of our home and possessions. The answer is yes! You can donate at bit.ly/Ellen-Ken.
The LA Press Club recently awarded Ellen Snortland Best Columnist and Journalist of the Year! If you’d like to access Ellen’s other writing, visit ellenbsnortland.substack.com and consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.