The things in my head today:
Today I am doing a little bit of this:
And after everyone is fed and happy I will be doing a bunch of this:
And that is the way that I will be spending my Memorial Day.
What about you?
Namaste.
Archive for the ‘food’
My place, or Your Place?
When you move into a new area it is interesting to find out what the local food favs are.
When I moved from the west side of Michigan to the Deroit area, I learned about the lusciousness that is White Castle.
And cold Stroh’s beer.
When I moved to Columbus, I learned about chili and spaghetti. Yum.
Moving to Pennsylvania I have learned about Lebanon Bologna, red beet eggs, and stromboli from Your Place.
Not specifically YOUR PLACE. But the restaurant here in Pennsylvania called Your Place.
Their stromboli, or strombaloney as The Princess used to call it, is absolutely out of this world. You have got to try it.
I am thinking about this as we try to decide what to have for dinner, as all of us forgot that Chik-Fil-A is closed on Sundays. You would think that at least one of us would have remembered.
Namaste.
Gotta get this done
As I have directed a bunch of people over here to read this.
Like “this” is an actual place and not a graphic representation of a bunch of electric impulses. Sheesh.
Whatever….
Last week Saturday MLW and I along with some friends, and some of their friends all went to a brew pub in Harrisburg called Appalachian Brewing Company. Our friends, not to be mistaken for THEIR friends, (who MLW and I know and like quite a bit….) had made reservations for our large party of 10.
Did I mention that there were 10 of us? Hungry, thirsty guys and gals. Just keep that in mind.
So we get to the Brewery, which also has a restaurant, only to find that they had messed up our reservations. Pretty much forgot about them. So they put us at a couple of different tables seperated by a wall. One that you could talk over. You know what I mean.
So there we sat. Us, and our friends. Waiting for the remaining 6 to join us. Waited. Thirsty. 4 of said friends came in and sat at the table that was seperated from us by the talking overable wall. And we did talk. And my table watched as a waitress came to their table and took their drink orders.
Have I mentioned that we haven’t seen a waitress yet? Very thirsty. And this is a Brew Pub.
Then their waitress took their appetizer order. And my table is getting thirstier.
When their appetizers came, I had had enough. I went up to the Manager and introduced myself. Reminded him that our reservations had been screwed up, and that he had us seated in an area where there is no waitress. Asked him if he wanted our busines, or should we go up the street. Said Manager assured me that he wanted our business, and got a waitress to come to our table.
A surly waitress. You know the kind. You wonder if they are spitting into your drinks before they bring said drinks. Which we hadn’t gotten to yet.
Moving on. Said waitress took our drink orders. FINALLY!! And we were momentarily happy. MLW and the her wife counter part had ordered water, and wc ordered root beer, while MLW ordered ginger beer. Both brewed on the premises with the beer. My husband counterpart and I ordered a sampler of the house beers. 8 different beers. Keep that in mind, as it will come into play here in a few sentences.
The wives drinks arrived. Well, 3/4’s of them. The water was their, and so was the root beer for WC. But no ginger beer for MLW. Not good. MLW inquired where her ginger beer was and surly waitress says, “we are out of it. And you probably wouldn’t have liked it to begin with.”
Not a good move. MLW does not like it when people presume to know what she does, and doesn’t want. Especially when she doesn’t even know the person. And she informed the surly wench of such, and ordered a root beer.
Surly wench drug her knuckles back to her lair of despair.
She came back with MLW’s root beer, and our sampler of beer. Or should I say 3/4’s of our sampler. Yes, you guessed it. 6 out of 8 beers. When asked where the other two glasses were, she said that “they have run out of glasses.”
I asked how could a pub run out of glasses, and got a shrug for my trouble.
At which time I told her that maybe she could go to the front of the restuarant and get 2 glasses out of the case where they are selling the glasses to the public, wash them, and get my the rest of my fricking beer!! It was bad enough to have screwed up out reservations, seated us in a waitress-less section, and then give us a knuckle dragger as a stand in, mess up MLW’s drink order, and finally mess up a beer order.
Have I mentioned that this is a Brew Pub? Inside a working brewery?
With all of that said and done. The food was excellent. Top notch.
The beer, not so much. I was not thrilled but by one called a zoileg lager. It was really good.
And that was the story of our Big Saturday Night Out. We went to see Steve Earle which is another story.
Namaste.
