Before moving on to other topics, just a short footnote to the DFD piece. You, as do I, probably (wish and) wonder why responsible restaurants don’t refuse to seat people in cutoffs and flip flops. I have often thought about this, and after some consideration I can understand (which is not endorsing) why they don’t turn them away. As we mentioned before, society has moved in the direction of “casual” in more and more situations that used to be “formal”, such as businesses (casual Fridays and more) and dining spots. But as we have also mentioned before, restaurants are after all, businesses. So while you order that $100 bottle of wine, sitting next to the guy and seeing his feet, remember that his money is the same color as yours. Maybe he has (more thoughtful and considerate) friends who will come to the restaurant bringing their wallets. FIne, But however, comma, it is in the restaurateurs favor if he also makes me want to come back. Perhaps they could sit the Raven’s jerseys next to the wait station, or next to the kitchen door. I know one server who used to say: “There are hooks in the hall if you would like to hang up your hat while you eat”. After all they are professionals, and although it’s a thin line, I would hope they would think about such things (remember, we’re talking fine dining places here, not the never ending salad bowls). Although I would still admonish even their customers to consider their surroundings and other people and dress appropriately.
Cookies..
I mentioned the other day that MFO and I were going to a talk at the Lexington Park Library Monday night on “Graves”. Turned out to be a two part presentation, one on “above ground” and the other on “below ground”. Scott Lawrence, a gravestone and graveyard restoration guy was “over” and Ruth Mitchell, an archeologist from Historic St. Mary’s City was “under”. Scott talked about family, church, and various kinds of graveyards, showed lots of different examples of grave markers, tablets, etc., and Ruth told of a dig she did on a family graveyard on the Eastern Shore. Both were fascinating talks, but what was really neat was the cookies that MFO prepared for the event..
Chili…
These things seem to come in bunches. I was asked by my old work office to come and judge their annual chili cook-off for charity. So I arrived a the “hangar” to take on the task. I joined the other two judges in front of a long table of 11 crock pots of bubbling reddish brown chili. Well, actually there were a couple of “white” chili’s, but the other nine were the traditional color. Armed with a bowl and spoon and several bottles of water, the intrepid judges got down to business, evaluating texture, consistency, color, spice, taste, and so forth. We only had about a half hour before the room was “opened for business” and folks could have a never ending bowl (not salad or breadsticks) for ten bucks for a good cause. With the abbreviated time period there wasn’t much time to sniff, savor, dissect, and reflect and we moved right along. I was happy to see that nobody adopted the “hotter is better” theory of chili preparation, searing the tongue and immediately bathing the forehead and neck in perspiration. To be sure by the 7th or 8th taste, the use of Kleenex was warranted, but the spices were all in balance. As I have noted several times, chili is one of those dishes that there is no “best”, sort of like crab cakes, it’s all in personal preference. So we were somewhat surprised when all three of us selected the same bowl of red as our favorite. It had good texture, a good blend of spices, and deep red color.
But, that’s not why I’m telling you this. It was a chance for me to once again be with a lot of people that I worked with for 10 years on a daily basis. People asked how I was, how “retirement” was going, and so forth. It really brought back to me the value of friends. That’s what I miss most being retired. Being “retired” is nice, but no matter how hard work seems at times, take a moment, slow down and consider what’s really important.
And, when I got home after a good day, there was:
And it goes without saying we were
DFD – even though in the digs..
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