If you've had the luck of dining at a beyond white-tablecloth restaurant, you know these establishments are highly skilled at prolongation. A beyond white-tablecloth restaurant—think the Le Bernadins and Per Ses of the world—is the kind where the servers, upon noticing the slightest implication that you may soon stand up, arrive at your left and right sides to make what would have otherwise been a solo job of pushing back your chair and getting yourself vertical in order to walk to the restroom a dreamy dance on a cloud of smiles and "of course, ma'ams". And they always like to send you home with something sweet: a cookie, say, or some truffles. And that means the next morning, before you're off to the races again, you re-experience—or at least catch a whiff of—last night. You untie whatever branded embellishment is sealing the cookie, peel back the cellophane, and take a bite of…shortbread, laced with cardamom or some rose petals. And there you are, having a sensual experience at 8 a.m. You float down the subway stairs. You're dancing on that cloud again.