Dinnerisms
So, Sweet Pants and I have sort of stumbled into a fun "date night" kind of activity. The rules of the game are as follows:
1. Decide on Sunday afternoon that you want to go out to dinner.
2. Get a craving for some really specific kind of cuisine or, even better, a specific dish.
3. Hop in the car to go to the restaurant.
4. Find that the desired restaurant is closed, because it is Sunday evening.
5. Drive around aimlessly until you find *something* that is open because by now you are hungry and don't want to eat a sammich at home.
I call this the Sunday Culinary Adventure. It's considered cheating a bit if you look up the restaurant online and figure out their hours, but this may be done for strong cravings that will not be denied.
So last night, I was craving brisket, and we headed off to the Q Shack in Durham. Drove by, but the sign was dark (I had cheated a bit and looked up the hours online). The restaurant was lit up, however, and serving a surprisingly good-sized crowd. Brisket was attained and tucked into, augmented by a cream soda in a glass bottle, and the gentle strains of some good bluegrass by some un-amplified players in the corner. The only thing I would have changed would be the tables, which should clearly be picnic tables covered in checked plastic table "cloths." However, the moment was so sweet that I just sat there savoring my hush puppies, cane sugar-sweetened soda, and bluegrass, wringing as much happiness as I could out of it.
1. Decide on Sunday afternoon that you want to go out to dinner.
2. Get a craving for some really specific kind of cuisine or, even better, a specific dish.
3. Hop in the car to go to the restaurant.
4. Find that the desired restaurant is closed, because it is Sunday evening.
5. Drive around aimlessly until you find *something* that is open because by now you are hungry and don't want to eat a sammich at home.
I call this the Sunday Culinary Adventure. It's considered cheating a bit if you look up the restaurant online and figure out their hours, but this may be done for strong cravings that will not be denied.
So last night, I was craving brisket, and we headed off to the Q Shack in Durham. Drove by, but the sign was dark (I had cheated a bit and looked up the hours online). The restaurant was lit up, however, and serving a surprisingly good-sized crowd. Brisket was attained and tucked into, augmented by a cream soda in a glass bottle, and the gentle strains of some good bluegrass by some un-amplified players in the corner. The only thing I would have changed would be the tables, which should clearly be picnic tables covered in checked plastic table "cloths." However, the moment was so sweet that I just sat there savoring my hush puppies, cane sugar-sweetened soda, and bluegrass, wringing as much happiness as I could out of it.