No Reservations

Nearly every town I live in, I find a “dive” that becomes my favorite place. It’s never a dive food-wise, but those not in the know avoid it because it looks outdated or tacky on the outside, perhaps even on the inside.

When I was a kid we had two places we went to regularly as a family: a southern Italian place that boasted an electric bowling machine by the door (I was good at age eight); and a German family-run restaurant way out in the hills, beyond where even we lived. Often, there was only one other table occupied in this small but delicious restaurant.

In Buffalo there was Ted’s Hot Dogs, Swiss Chalet for chicken, and BaiLo’s for beef on ‘weck. In college we spent most of our evenings at Dap’s, the bar across the street from a factory. Twenty-five cent ponies. Three 1/2 beers over several hours and a tip. Did I tip? I’d like to think so.

After college there was a beanery. In the Depression (the first Great one, not this one… yet) they served beans and bread for five cents a head. There was a line around the block for this little place. When I lived in the neighborhood it became a favorite lunch place for me and other co-workers, but especially for team birthdays.

Their specialty was corned beef and cabbage sandwiches with deli mustard, and on birthdays we’d share quarts of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer. I was usually the organizer and the owners liked me so they let me make reservations for this working-class joint.

I’d call in and ask for a table for ten for 12:15 p.m. They’d tell me “We don’t take reservations. This lady wants a reservation!” “It’s Dee.” “Done.” Every time they had tables put together with butcher paper on them, just for us.

I haven’t had one in a few years, a favorite food joint. I’m certainly not going to find one up here on the mountain with all the hoi polloi. The lesson here is just as you look beyond mere physical beauty (at least I hope you do) to find your soul mate, look beyond what a place looks like on the outside and check it out. You may be pleasantly surprised.

Check things out online. When you move to a new neighborhood or town, talk with your neighbors. They’ll tell you Sam’s is great but to avoid Joe’s place like the plague.

My rules are as follows. Professional staff, even if family-run. Line outside the door or full restaurant. Check the menu to see if it is to your liking. After you’re seated, go to the restroom (I don’t care if it’s McDonalds, and you can go to the restroom before you order when at Mickey D’s) and see if it’s clean. If it is, chances are the kitchen is as well. We call that Auntie Lorna’s “white glove test.” If one touches a surface and the white glove has dirt on it, get out of Dodge.

We always have table service except when on the road with the dog on hot days, then we find a Sonic and have burgers in the car with the A/C on. In the mid-tier level of restaurant we go to 1-2 times per week, $10-15 per plate plus sodas and tax and tip, we end up with the crud. That’s because I buy quality meats and vegetables and observe strict sanitary rules in the kitchen.

The dog is allowed to lie at the very end of a galley kitchen. I do not pat her on the head. If I do, I wash my hands. If I need to take her out I wash my hands. I do everything backwards. The veggies will take the shortest time to cook but I do them first and at the last minute take out the meat and prepare it for cooking. In some instances I need to do the meat well in advance so I use another cutting board or wash in hot soapy water.

We were talking about good food and I segued to cleanliness. If your tummy is upset after a nice meal out, it doesn’t make it a nice meal out.

We had a mainly nice day. I killed my basil plant by not taking it in last night. It was supposed to be 44 degrees but it froze and died. I cut it down to two good leaves and bought a pot for a new basil plant that I could easily bring in at night (the dill, rosemary, thyme, chives and sage look good) but there was no unfrozen basil to be purchased so I’ll have to wait. Perhaps I’ll place the new Italian flatleaf parsley in the new container and see if the basil comes back, while I await new shipments from growers.

Tonight was steak and potato night. Two small sirloins, baked potatoes, sliced tomato and one corn-on-the-cob each and we were sated. But Jim bought a pineapple that I broke down a few moments after returning from Whole Foods and had that for dessert. Hope you’re having a great weekend! Dee