Bonsoir Inside-the-Loop-ers! Did you hear? It's Scorpitarius Season betch.
Soooo... what we have in front of us is my last year as a forty something. Light the sparklers, pull the pin from the fire extinguisher, and cue le grand tapage! We've been training for this since 1976.
The Js (minus Junie who is currently embedded in the Parisian music scene - making new friends and generally having a "marvelous time ruining" absolutely "everything") kicked off my 49th spin around the sun at Chibuguan Cafe with a Filipino soda and a plate the likes of which I've rarely had the pleasure to drool over. Seriously! I slept on this place MUCH too long and, in penance, you'll likely find me there once a week because I am fully prepared to make right what has been so terribly erroneous for such an awfully lengthy period. Grab your keys, head out to Winterville, and prepare to feel like you've hopped into a very yummy Edward Hopper canvas. On this particular canvas, you'd see Little J delighting us with several rounds of "Goodwill Grab Bag - Thrifts for Humanity." Which I have every intention of asking to play each birthday. Let me also tell you that I am absolutely committed to being "that witch" just as she has commanded via formed plastic and a mason jar with a handle.
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| Current View: Thanks little J! |
Sunday was like a dream! It started, as most do, with G reading Modern Love to me from the NYT, which we have delivered on Sundays - one of the most romantic (if not THE most) Valentines I've ever received. And continue to cherish. It ended... with two deserts. Which is not typically how I handle things but he made me promise to order anything I wanted. Which ended up being: Tempura Local String Beans, Broiled Oysters, Pumpkin Cake, Chocolate Pecan Pie and a celebratory "Golden Years" because yes TF they are and 100 MF can't tell me nothin. I beez in the trap, be-beez in the trap.
What I didn't expect to find? Yet another restaurant I'd been sleeping on for far too long.
Five points Athens (as a staunch Birmingham, Alabama devotee) has not always delivered for me. There is no Hot & Hot, no Fonfon, no Highlands, no Garage. No grocery with Andygator on tap and fried chicken. But there is 5&10. An establishment that I immediately recognized as the place where we'll want to celebrate almost any milestone I can imagine. When Tucker & Emily visit. When Aes gets an award at school. When someone I love needs a little extra sparkle, we'll go to 5&10. Their menu is exquisite. The staff is lovely. The space is GORGEOUS! But there was something else entirely that filled me with nostalgia: Peter Dale running plates.
When I bartended on Bourbon Street, our owner would jump behind the bar with me (in an Armani suit no less) any time I was with one customer and there was another person waiting. He did't watch until we were in the weeds. Or out of glassware. Or in need of more cases of Purple Haze. He pitched in every single time he saw an opportunity to support us. And, as you can imagine, I just thought that's how the world worked. So I spent the next coupla decades finding out that this is very rarely how the F&B industry actually operates. So seeing him drop off a plate of oysters just really hit me in the heart.
And that pie crust? Shut the front door and lock the back. I have questions. It was perfect. Simply perfect.
Tonight I'm slipping off for another Scorpitarius celebration! What's next? Great question.
IF I even leave the house this week . . .
Kidding of course. There are holiday markets and plenty of home-for-the-holiday shows but . . . Let's be honest, as long as there is a pan of green bean casserole to clutch, I'll have a hard time leaving it unsupervised.
You're on your own this week.
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