Yesterday, my husband came home and I really didn’t want to make dinner. It was about seven and we walked around to our corner “foodie bar” as he calls it.
We’ve lived here for seven months and this is one of the first places he found when he came here his first week alone. Their short ribs with cauliflower mash are superb. They make a few of their own drinks. Like a brand new Concord grapes and lemongrass. Or Cucumber. Wild stuff.
We walked in and saw neighbors at the bar and sat next to them and ordered dinner. We walk our dogs at the same time so know each other peripherally. They said they’re “regulars” and in the first minute the barkeep brought us water, an iced tea for my husband and chardonnay for me. We didn’t ask.
Then a “regular” who lives down the street gave me a big hug before he walked out the door. The manager then gave me a tasting of his new pumpkin spice brew. Our neighbors said “I guess we’re not as regular as you!”
I do tastings for them a bit, mainly drink syrups before they go into the drink. I tried a jalapeno syrup and asked for a tasting of poblano and also habanero.
We got to meet cool new neighbors with whom we’ll get together soon. What is striking to me is that even in a short time I become a “regular” somewhere. We’ve been all over the country and world in the nearly ten years of our marriage yet I always want to be a “regular” somewhere.
There was an old Beanery (where in the 1930’s people lined up for a meal of beans for five cents) in Albany NY and it was known for its corned beef and cabbage on rye, deli mustard and Pabst Blue Ribbon quarts. I would call for a staff birthday or going-away party to reserve a table for 10-12 and they’d say “there are no reservations here.” Whereupon I said “It’s Dee.” What time? How many? And the table would be set and several quarts were set out with glasses before we arrived.
This morning I ran into a maid I haven’t seen for a few weeks and she came up and gave me a big hug and petted Zoe. I meet people everywhere and become a “regular.” Even the gal at the grocery store wants to know how many embellished jackets I have!
Even if we live somewhere for nine months as we did in Austin many years ago, we become “regulars” and that’s what I strive for always. It makes us happy, and to me, it allows us to meet local folks and be a part of the scene even if we’re just old married farts. Cheers from Dairyland, Dee
p.s. I forgot to tell you my keys fell out of my pocket before we left around nine, and they had them first thing this morning so I had to go for the ham and potato soup plus duck sausage on toast with poached eggs. Incredible, D
Cooking with Dee 