Ruby Tuesday

Your usual wordsmith is out of town this weekend to join his siblings in Kentucky. I am his son, Adam, who you may have read about in previous posts as the quiet one with opinions ranging from “fine” to “not bad”. I am not as verbose as my father, who has been reading and dabbling in writing longer than I have been alive, so you won’t see me using words like “wainscoted” or other such snobby language. He insisted my mother take pictures of our meal, so I decided to take the helm of this week’s blog. I have attempted writing before, but could never muster the motivation for anything extensive, so this might be a fun exercise.
The Place:
Ruby Tuesday, an old favorite. Well, “favorite” may not be the right word. This was one of the few places we dined at before starting this blog and escaping our rut. Our adventures in trying new places has noticeably expanded our palettes, most obviously with another classic, Bob Evans, growing just too salty for us these days. Quickly burning through established chains early on led us to lesser known locations, growing our taste even more and allowing us to see that, hey, there is some real quality food out there if you actually go beyond the usual. Perhaps this is why I had such a scathing review of O’Charleys recently, or, perhaps, they are just not great in general. Either way, our continuing return trips to Ruby Tuesday, what surely must be our most visited location at this point, show just how good it is. Or maybe it’s nostalgia.

The Food:
We were seated in a booth, which had a loose table rather than a bolted one. This is nice if you

 want to shift it around, but I much prefer a stationary surface. After a moment we were greeted by our waiter, an odd fellow. I didn’t catch his name, but he reminded me a lot of Otho from the movie Beetlejuice.
We put in our drink orders: my mother a sweet tea, myself a Coke. Their menu had changed quite a bit over the years due to an apparent initiative to become more than just a typical family eatery. This works for the better in terms of the food quality and creating a more focused variety, but results in me never remembering what they have.
A scan of the menu revealed some new features, most notably sandwiches and burgers being served on pretzel buns. This intrigued me. Local shop Cool Beans (which is currently remodeling! We will definitely be returning soon) feature pretzel buns, so I know from experience they are good. This time, however, I wasn’t quite that hungry, so I decided on another new option: a half rack of barbecue ribs and “southern” style hand breaded chicken

tenders, with a side of fries. My mother also chose a half rack of ribs, but with a request for a skewer of grilled shrimp. She then asked to have the salad bar as one of her two sides, but Otho had to decline. He apologized that, much to his disdain and continued protests, the salad bar can only be added on, not used as a side. She sighed but got it anyway, instead ordering her two sides as spaghetti squash and cooked zucchini. I’m unclear why she felt the need to punish herself by ordering these, but I didn’t pry. Otho headed for the kitchen and my mother went for her salad. Since I did not get a salad, she jokingly warned that I would not be allowed at her croutons. I scoffed at the idea, and recommended just grabbing extra. Several minutes later Otho returned with cheese biscuits, fresh out of the oven. They remind me of the similar biscuits served by Red Lobster, but since that place is otherwise terrible, Ruby Tuesday having them dismisses any chance of going back there. Warm, cheesy, soft. They were excellent.

Our meals arrived. I don’t usually order ribs, but these looked quite good. So much so that the lady seated at the table behind us ended up changing her previous order to the ribs. The meat fell right off the bone, much to my delight. I am not a fan of eating around a bone. Too much of a hassle. The meat itself was quite tasty, but not wonderful. Ribs are good, but I prefer other areas of the cow more, I suppose. As for the chicken, it was very tender, and the seasoning was quite… “southern” I guess you could say. A side of honey mustard made them even better. The fries were crispy but not crunchy, and seasoned well.My mother agreed about the ribs, which is all I rea
lly needed to hear, but then she commented on the slop she considered sides.
The zucchini, she says, was good, but the squash was not her cup of tea. No fault of the restaurant itself, just not something she liked. I acted surprised by this finding.

Summary:
Of course it was good. Ruby Tuesday is a constant in our new world of dining. Not spectacular, but never awful. Above average and with enough variety that our return trips never grow tiresome.
Otho was having a rough day, and I sympathize with him. I myself work in the food industry and sometimes have opinions about what management does. He regularly checked up on us, made sure we understood everything, refilled our drinks in a timely manner, and was otherwise perfectly friendly. He just needs a break.



Editor's Note:
If I must add anything from this meal, it is about the shrimp skewer. I wasn't there, but I certainly heard about it. The skewer cost $3 and had a grand total of 3 shrimp. Angel mentioned this several times, many, many times. (DCB)

Lorenzo's Italian Kitchen

106 S. Main
Desoto, Mo.
On The Web
On Facebook

Finally, finally, I was free of my work-leash for a proper outing. I'd worked some earlier in the day, but finished up sometime after noon.
This was a last minute decision. Seriously last minute. The best we could get Angel to do was to spit out three or four places, I picked this one from that list.
The Place:
Main Street in Desoto is old school, mid twentieth century style. The street itself runs alongside and parallel to the many railroad sidings that make up the busy maintenance facility. There are only businesses on one side of most of Main Street. It's a  charming small town and it has been getting a period-reflective update. Old style street lamps, etc. Angel occasionally takes dogs she's training along the sidewalk. Traffic, foot traffic, it's good for a dog to learn how to act around unexpected and unfamiliar, for a dog, common people places.
Lorenzo's is one of the many small shops tucked away in an narrow older building. When we walked in, there were only a couple of tables occupied. I knew this would soon change though. They'd announced live music on the patio starting at six. We were an hour ahead of them.
A beautiful day, not too warm, but not chilly, sunny with occasional fluffy clouds overhead.
The place is cozy. I can think of no other word for it.
The walls are wainscoted in dark wood, the upper walls painted the color of ripe tomatoes. Furniture is black, booths, tables and chairs. The shirts and half-aprons worn by the staff were also black.
We were shown a booth near the back and fell into our seats. "Katie will be with you shortly." the hostess said.
And she was, a happy looking young lady stepped up and asked about drinks. Tea, sweet tea, Root Beer.
She skipped off and we started going over the menus.
I'd had the pizza before, it was very good. I think I had pasta there, though I couldn't recall wish dish. Pasta sounded good though.
Katie brought our drinks and we ordered an appetizer that we'd just been discussing.
The Food:
Of course they serve toasted ravioli, everyone for dozens of miles around serves that. Lorenzo's has that along with their own 'in-your-face' alternative, toasted cannelloni.
It's prepared the same way, but instead of ravioli they stuff a tube-pasta and cut it into bite-size bits. We recalled having them on a prior visit and all agreed.
When the time to order the entrees came, we were ready.
I wasn't real hungry, I'd made a big breakfast for myself that morning after everyone else had left. Adam had to work, Angel was out pimping mutts at an adoption event at Buchheit's in Herculaneum. She's done these things a lot over the last ten years or so. They take a lot of time, a lot of her energy, but occasionally they place a dog. This was a good day, they found homes for two
We ordered.
Me: Baked Cannelloni.
Angel: Mare Monti (a seafood and pasta dish)
Adam: Calzone with bacon, pepperoni and sausage.
A calzone is a fancy name for a folded over pizza. (see picture) You could also say that pizza is an open faced calzone.
We all declined a salad, then out came the electronic devices.
The tea wasn't especially good, but the toasted cannelloni  was exceptional. Some places barely even try on these appetizers, Lorenzo's cares.The house-made sauce is much better than the generic stuff offered at most restaurants. The stuffed pasta bits were gone in no time at all.
After a short while, just as the tables started filling up, the food was served. Simple, uncluttered plates, the food needed little extra flare or fanfare.

Cannelloni

Adam's calzone looked a bit like an upscale Hot Pocket. Angel's Mare was almost soup-like, my cannelloni was hard to see buried under thick, oozy sauce and melted white cheese.
I'd originally thought spaghetti, but the pasta to sauce/cheese ratio was a bit high. Cannelloni has only a little actual pasta, only enough to wrap the seasoned beef, chicken and veal insides. It's still a rich dish, but not as filling.
Angel's dish, Mare Monti has no actual horse in it.(much to my disappointment) The menu described it as Chopped clams, shrimp, real crab meat, fresh mushrooms and

Mare Monti

diced tomato, tossed in a light seafood broth and topped with fresh parsley. Meaning of course, I would never order it for myself, it's the clams.
She sucked it down though, first picking at the individual seafood bits, and slurping the pasta, then dipping her bread into the remaining sauce. "I'd like to just pick the plate up and slurp it all down." She said, she really, really liked the fish sauce.
I chopped up my pasta tubes once I found them. The stringy melted cheese made it a bit awkward to eat, but Lorenzo's is a casual place, things like slurping and dangling cheese bridges from mouth to plate is
perfectly acceptable. The sauce was awesome, sweet but not too sweet, it certainly hit several notes that sounded like 'fresh'. The meat was not too spicy, the texture of the blend of three meats was flawless, almost buttery.

Calzone

While I was eating I noticed the music I'd been rather enjoying. Big bands and crooners from a time before my own. When I do listen to or download music, this is among my favorite types. I really like the old guys from the 40's and 50's, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Tony Bennett. I like the contemporary crooners as well, Harry Connick Jr, Michael Buble and Tony Bennett. The music was orchestrated and peppy. It fit in this old place.
Of course, Adam liked his calzone, which looked thick and rich as well.


Summary:
The place was starting to fill up as we finished. A large family with a couple of adorable children scooted a

couple of tables together. I say the tots were adorable, which means they stayed at the other end of the dining area. Distance definitely makes small kids more appealing.
Katie took very good care of us. Everything arrived in a timely manner, exactly as ordered. She checked on us frequently and didn't dawdle when it came time for the check.
The entire staff was friendly and attentive. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves and the many customers.
The food was simply outstanding and not overpriced. Our tab came in at only $41, less than we'd spend at one of the franchised casual dining places. From the quaint and cozy location, to the excellent staff, to the exceptional food, there's absolutely nothing I can't happily recommend about Lorenzo's.
Okay the tea wasn't great, but that may be deliberate. They offer lots of wines and beers there, a lot of choices. Maybe next time I'll have a more mature drink.

Taytro's Bar and Bistro

343 North Creek Drive
Festus, MO
On Facebook

Still tethered to my work tasks, I assigned my able co-reviewers, Angel and Adam, to take pictures, make observations, then report back their findings. They were not alone, Tyler, Angel's oldest son, his lovely and charming wife Tonya, and their two year old daughter Kensington, were their guests. They were in town to take the lovable little brat to the zoo.
Yeah, I know, I usually say I don't like kids, but this is family. Kensington was a little shy, but I helped her bond with me a bit better by stealing her teddy bear, twice. This at least led to animosity, which is in my experience, the crucial first step in any lasting relationship.
I've been to this place several times, I didn't need to see it again just to write about it.
When they got home I approached them one at a time for their assessment.
The Place:
Taytro's is one of our favorite joints. It's not large or fancy, but the food is usually pretty darn good. We've been trying to get Tyler there for a while. He's of Cajun descent. Though he's never been to Louisiana, his father and grandfather carried remnants of that culture their entire lives. BTW, Tyler is the young man that created the logo for this blog site. He was kind of tough as a stepkid, but he has grown up to be a very decent, respectable, responsible man, a loving and devoted husband and doting father.
They were seated and waited on by a young lady who Tonya said reminded her of Tara Reid. I made note of that and looked it up later. It turns out that Reid is some sort of celebrity that even I might have seen at some time.  She was in several movies I'd heard of, mostly ones that I never bothered watching.
The Food:

Shrimp Etouffee

Tyler had the Shrimp Etouffee and the fries. "Delicious, but I don't really have anything to compare it too, I've never had etouffee before."
I found that hard to believe.
"I find that hard to believe." I said. "Too bad, it's true." he replied. "I also had the house salad with the poppy seed dressing. I really liked that." He added, verbally italicizing that word just like I wrote it.
Tonya had the Fried Shrimp Po' Boy, one of my favorites. "It was good, not overly shrimpy." She said, with that charming, heart-warming smile of hers.

Pulled Pork

Kensington had the chicken strips and fries. Pressed for a comment, I finally got her to tell me "Not good for you." about the chicken. Her way, according to her mom, to say she doesn't like something. Tonya added that the fries were seasoned and the baby girl didn't seem to like that either.
Adam had the pulled pork sandwich and the house-made chips. They'd put the barbecue sauce on the side this time, add as much or little as you like. He of course, liked it, it's what he always gets there. "The chips were a little too spicy." he added, no too spicy, but more than I usually like."
Angel pushed the envelope, asking for something not even on the menu.
"The menu said to ask about the oysters, so I did. I wanted a fried oyster Po'

Fried Oyster Po' Boy.

Boy."  Tara went to the back to conference with the chef and came back saying yup, they could do that. "The breading was a little heavy, but not too bad."
Tyler added "I tried one of the oysters, it was pretty good, mainly because it was heavily breaded."
He'd said he'd never had an oyster he actually enjoyed before.
I'll take them at their word.

Gator Bites and Fried Ravioli

For appetizers, they'd ordered two, the 'Gator Bites' and since this was near St. Louis, the Fried Ravioli. All agreed that the gator bites were good, a little chewy, but not too much so. They also all agreed on the ravioli. Nothing to write home about. Tonya even added that they tasted 'canned'.This is what you'll find at most places though, only a few in my experience put a lot of effort into this tidbit.

Summary:

Shrimp Po' Boy

Taytro's is a sure thing. It's just good. They don't have a huge menu, but what they do make is mostly above par. I failed to mention the drinks, Tonya and Tyler, to my disappointment had water, Angel had sweet tea, and Adam had a Coke.
"For what it's worth I wasn't very impressed with the water." Tonya said, sensing my disapproval with their non-committal drink choice.
The service was great, Tara kept the drinks filled and the servings timely. "If we lived here we'd certainly go back." Tyler concluded.
Full Disclosure, a confession: I'm probably part of the reason Kensington didn't eat anything. Earlier in the day, while still trying to establish a relationship with her, I applied step two in my secret formula for getting girls to like me. Bribe them with food. We'd shared several peanuts, even after her mom had told me that the little tot didn't like peanuts. I know this works, my own granddaughter, Caprice, remembers us sharing barbecue potato chips back when she wasn't much older. Even Angel remembers where we went on our first date. Burger King, 'cause I know what the ladies like.
Taytro's is good, better than just good.
More to that point, I'm not at all nervous about sending people there.

Farmer's Kitchen & Concord Grill

Farmer's Kitchen
4660 Yeager Rd.
Hillsboro, Mo.
On Facebook

Concord Grill
11427 Concord Village Ave.
Affton, Mo.
On the Interwebs
On Facebook
Previous review

Yeah, this one's a little different, especially since I didn't even get to go to Concord Grill this weekend. But there's a story here, bear with me.
Saturday was to be a busy day. I had been personally invited to attend a gathering at Valley View Glade held by the Missouri Department of Conservation. The reason? My enviable wit, my lady-killer charm, my tenacious journalistic style? No, it was because property records for the area indicated I might own some glade or former glade land.
A glade is an area of very shallow soil. In Jefferson County they are classified as dolomite (a type of rock) glades, because of the large number of exposed and protruding outcroppings. In other areas, such as the Ozarks, these areas frequent hillsides and are also known as barrens, or bald knobs. Vegetation does grow there, just not very tall. Glades depend on wildfires to eliminate intrusive tree species, such as red cedar, and to rejuvenate the birth and growth of the hundreds of indigenous plants.
I have hiked a few of these protected areas in the county, and also discovered that there is a glade area on the unoccupied acreage below my house. My five acres used to be part of that larger land mass, but was split off to expedite the sale of the house. The land, very shallow soil, very hilly and rocky, full of crags and ravines is pretty much agriculturally and commercially useless. Sparse, stunted hardwoods, shallow soil, short, spindly grasses.
I wanted to attend so I got myself put on the list.
I got a late start though.
I stopped off in Hillsboro for a quick breakfast at:
The Place:

The Farmers Kitchen.
I've eaten breakfast there a half dozen or so times recently, I've grown to like it fine. Closer to home than Huddle House, my previous weekend breakfast favorite.
It's just off the main drag near Queens, the local supermarket.
I haven't given the place a formal review yet, for reasons that are a little complicated, but I do go there and have thoroughly enjoyed the food and service. Well, most of the time.
The place just recently opened under new ownership, they're still finding their stride, so I can't be too critical.
The Food:
That being said though, I always get the same, non-complicated thing. Basically the same breakfast I used to get at HH.
Two eggs, over medium, bacon, hash browns and a waffle.

What it usually looks like.

I must say, even at this last visit, they make a waffle that is far superior to HH, Waffle House, Denny's or IHOP. Farmer's Kitchen doesn't sweeten theirs so much.
If I were not already running late, I would have sent this day's plate back. The eggs were fine, the bacon was crispy, the waffle melted the big pile of butter beautifully. However, the hash browns were swimming in grease. They even lost their shape, appearing to be globs of greasy shredded potato than firm, crispy ribbons. I was really, really disappointed. I knew they could make hash browns, I've had them several times without complaint.
Against my better judgment, I ate most of them anyhow, choosing to absorb myself in my book rather than
obsess about it. I would pay for this bad decision later.
I didn't stay long, the service was kind of spotty and the book wasn't very good, so I thought I'd better try to get out of there before I missed the seminar altogether.
The service was indeed spotty, but I knew why. The ladies that waited on my table were new to me. Previously I'd always been tended to by a young, very pregnant lady. She's quite good, so I assumed on this morning that she must be about to pop and these were fill-in's or newbies. This is a rather new place, so I excused that.
I paid up and jumped into my car. I knew the way to the glade, I'd been there several times.
Well, sort of. Actually I knew the way to both big preserved glades just outside of Hillsboro. Naturally I went to the wrong one first, I was having that kind of day. Valley View is managed by the Dept of Conservation, the other, Victoria, by the Nature Conservancy.

Valley View Glade

They look a lot alike but they are several miles apart. As soon as I realized my mistake, which was not soon at all, I turned around and sped (at a safe, legal speed) to the other one, I was now twenty minutes late to a two hour event.
There were several cars in the lot, something that doesn't happen often. Most of my hikes had been solitary, as if I had the 220+ acres to myself. I knew that I was in the right place this time by the number of cars and trucks. I couldn't see or hear anyone, but I knew the trail only went in two directions. I could see about a half mile down one direction, nothing, they must have gone the other way, along the tree line, toward the creek
It's all down hill from the parking lot. About halfway a big, colorful, probably poisonous insect jumped on me. I pulled and twisted at my polo shirt to rid myself of the toxic beastie. Then I noticed how big a hurry I had been getting out of the house. My shirt was on inside out. No wonder the people in the restaurant had stared at me like a hobo.
I looked around, could see no one. I could hear them in the distance though. So I immodestly flipped my shirt right side out and checked the pit area for deodorant traces. All good.

Professional Conservationists.

I continued down the hill about a quarter mile or so and came up on the small group of fifteen or so. Jennifer and Justin from the conservation department were already in deep with the flora and fauna details, I hadn't missed much. I'd studied up on that back during my hiking days. Low, colorful flowering grasses dotted the almost barren landscape. I even spotted some Fremont's Leather Leaf, about ready to bloom. This particular species of the small plant only grows in glades, and only around Jefferson county. It's not a brilliant or beautiful plant, even with its small, subtle lavender blooms. I just always thought it was cool that the things only existed here.
They soon started discussing management, burning, tree clearing, which nature used to take care of all by herself. Nowadays of course, if a wildfire starts up anywhere near houses, we throw legions of firefighters at the perfectly natural and ultimately environmentally necessary event.
By NOT allowing the burn off,  small trees can actually grow and create a canopy, which prevents indigenous plants from growing. Deer, turkey and probably Sasquatches and whatever else lurks in these barren environs thrive on those small buds, grasses and seeds. Some of the plants will not even sprout in the modest shade created by a single scraggly cedar.
I knew this as well to, but I enjoyed being around other folks that cared. Justin pointed to a small, thick

100 years old?

shrub, about ten feet tall and half that big around. It looked spindly and  puny. They said what it was, but I didn't write it down. I said I had researched the flora and fauna, not memorized it.
Anyway that puny, sickly looking tree, in Justin's estimation, was probably over a hundred years old. Things do grow in the hot, dry, thin-soiled glades, just not very quickly.
Jennifer said that we also would be discussing the woodland areas around the glade. So we walked downhill another quarter mile or so. My tummy started making noises. A bloaty, uncomfortable feeling came over me. The greasy potatoes were demanding their due.
There are no restroom facilities in the glades, unless you count nature itself.  It's one thing if you are alone, quite another when you are in a group. I had not planned well. The second half of the talk I was too biologically distracted to participate or pay attention much. As soon as one of the conservationists mentioned heading back, I took the lead.
All up hill.
On a loose and muddy path.
I reached the parking lot first and drove away as quickly as I could.
For most of the rest of the day that pile of greasy potatoes haunted me. I got home before noon and just 'relaxed' for a while.
I even tried to take a nap. I was almost asleep when my work phone chirped.
Oh yeah, on-call.
When my phone chirps on a weeknight or weekend on my turn in the on-call schedule, it's never just a friendly greeting.
I checked the cryptic, robot generated messages, another message came in, then another, then another. . .  Not good.
Our system, one of those who's job it is to monitor other systems, was spitting out a litany of complaints.
I'll not bore you with the technical details, other than to say the internal network was acting up. Our systems, and there are hundreds of them, all talk to one another. A diagram of the network paths would less resemble a road map than a huge bowl of spaghetti. When one of the several systems that keeps track of how to reach the other systems throws a fit, communication stalls, users panic, guys like me say b-bye to the rest of the day.
It was only 1:30 P.M. but I knew that I would not be going out for dinner as planned.
I told Angel as much, she was okay with that, her day was quite busy taking care of the fifteen dogs she'd taken in boarding and training. She's used to this, I've always been on an on-call schedule. She knows that an plan-killing IT event can and will occur at all hours, most of them unpleasant. We would either have take out or make something ourselves.
This was very, very disappointing this time since I'd planned all week to return to:
The Place:
Concord Grill.
We were just there a month back, on the day I upgraded cars. We thoroughly enjoyed it and I said as much

in that week's review. The owner, Deb, even contacted me saying some very nice things about the review.
On the restaurant's web page she had a note that she's always looking to expand her arsenal of burgers. I dutifully submitted a suggestion. In her note to me she'd said that they were going to work on mine and would let me know when it would be available. She contacted me again earlier this week, they were going to offer it as a Saturday special.
That is why we had planned to go back on this day.
I had recommended a Shrimp Alfredo Burger.
Don't gag, think about it.
Basically surf and turf, grilled shrimp on a beautifully cooked burger, with a thick, creamy, buttery cheese sauce topping. What's not to love?
But no, I couldn't go. I explained as much in a short note to Deb. I felt really bad, but such is the life of an on-call IT guy. IT administration has many rules, methods and guiding principles, the most commonly cited one is of course, Murphy's law. If a thing can go wrong, it will, especially, according to one of the many corollaries, at the most inopportune time.
It would have been good, probably outstanding. Concord Grill makes the best thick burgers in my broad reviewing area, by a long shot.
A while later, while I was watching the systems and waiting for the all-clear call from the network guys, Angel announced "Comfort food, we need comfort food!"
I knew exactly what she meant.
Back in olden days, in the 'salad days' (Which , ironically rarely, if ever, included a salad) we prepared and ate mostly heavy, starchy midwestern food. Meat, potatoes, bread, etc. Lots of potatoes.
Not anymore. We don't even keep potatoes in the house now. I love potatoes, really, really love potatoes, but for the past year I only have one or two servings per week, if that many, usually on Saturday, when we eat out. My main food problem has always been the starches. When the doctor showed me a chart and wagged his finger at me last year, I knew what I needed to do.
But this was Saturday night.

Angel made a list and headed out to Queens. We were pretty low on several things anyhow.
That evening I peeled four or five spuds then chopped them up into 1/4 inch, roughly, cubes. She heated up the oil, something else we don't have much of in our pantry anymore. I then sliced and diced part of an onion. Then I had to talk on the phone for a while to the tired and frantic network guys.
We used to make this meal a lot.
Fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, biscuits, bacon, maybe some ham, and definitely a big, thick, steamy pile of sausage gravy.
I knew the potatoes would be better than those that I'd had that morning, Angel knows what she's doing.
It worked, it all came together beautifully. The gravy, which out of newly acquired habit, I applied sparingly, going for the taste, not the quantity. The eggs were fluffy, the biscuits, canned, since neither of us makes biscuits from scratch often enough to be very good at it, were golden brown. The bacon was crispy and plentiful. We couldn't eat it all, but we knew that. This stuff reheats just fine on Sunday morning.
Summary:
The morning's meal was unfortunate. I know Farmer's Kitchen can do better than this. I'm counting on it. I will be back, probably in the next weekend or two. Out of a half dozen breakfasts there I've enjoyed them all just fine except for this one. I'll cut them some slack, this one time. I like that they are locally owned and so close to home. I want them to succeed. I know they can.
Concord Grill will be fine as well. I am truly disappointed that I was unable to go there this weekend. I had my review mostly, mentally, already written, the photos already framed.
Alas.
Home cooked comfort food is always a sure-fire hit. That's exactly why we can't have it very often. This stuff is all wrong nutritionally speaking, unless you are able to routinely burn off thousands of heavy calories per day. For some of us though, it's now a rare and precious treat.
I'm on call next weekend too, so, who knows.