Friday, March 6, 2009

Tale of a northern southern adventure

First, let me set the stage. Last night was my 3 year anniversary with
my fiance. He took me out to a surprise dinner at the top of the hub,
a fancy restaurant in Boston where we spent 20 minutes perplexed by
the wine list. But, as we dipped into our flakey sole and perfectly
prepared venison, we watched the Cambridge skyline and were perfectly
happy.
Today, however, we had a different dining experience. Decidedly so.

We are en route to new Hampshire for a ski weekend, and stopped on
the way up north for dinner. On the endorsement of my entire Maryland
based company, who claim that it is the ideal way to begin a day of
wild boar hunting (seriously), we stopped at a cracker barrel.
Wow.
The friendliest waitress ever guided is through the menu, explaining
us city folk how the sides ... Including turnip greens, green beans
and so on were all cooked in ham hocks. Swell ... So I guided her to
pretend I was a vegetarian.

She graciously accepted that as fact, despite having just taken down
my main dish order for meatloaf. And she said, nicely, that she had
dealt with vegetarians before. I bet none of them ordered the
meatloaf!

Fiance got the chicken fried chicken... Which I believe is a redundant
way of saying fried chicken. It came with what can only be described
as a bowl of gravy which, for a moment, he assumed was the mashed
potato, and which was remarkably similar to my Italian salad dressing,
in color and texture.

I got the aforementioned meatloaf. It was divine. And hush puppies,
which weren't quite as good as the southern ones. And corn bread. And
coleslaw.

And we both had our vegetable side of Fried apples for dessert.

It was perfect. The contrast. then utter silliness of the situation.
The wholesome hearty meal. The checkout area admist the faux country
store. Sure, a girl likes her fancy things now and again, but usually
a little cornbread, a bit of an adventure, and the company of your boy
really hits the spot.

--
Sent from my mobile device

1 comment:

Priya said...

cracker barrel: it's where they keep the white folks! also chicken fried chicken implies gravy on top and usually a biscuit somewheres. or so i learned at dennys.