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This year, work has been scarce. Delia and Cathy have been much more relaxed and in better health than in years past. They both wanted to take me to ... breakfast or dinner. Both of them had some work but it would be short and not oppressive.
We can rarely agree on anything the first time around. Delia wanted to work first, then celebrate; Cathy wanted to go from her work to partying with her friends.
Cathy wanted to take me to D.Z. Akins, one of my favorite restaurants; Delia wanted us to go anywhere but there because she considers their fare expensive and greasy.
I suggested a compromise: Delia could go to work while Cathy took me to D.Z. Akins for breakfast, then we could all go for dinner elsewhere. Delia, always the thrifty one, thought I would be getting too much of a good thing and decided to go with us for breakfast if we would skip going out for dinner. That worked for me.
Delia set out in her car, so she could go directly to work after the meal, and Cathy took me in her truck. Cathy decided to try a short cut but couldn't remember the name of the street she wanted to use, delaying us enough for Delia to arrive well in advance. When we got there, Delia was standing in an otherwise empty parking space, effectively reserving it for us. She also saved us a place on the waiting list, the restaurant being crowded.
Our wait was long enough that my back started to hurt. I sought a place to sit and all I could find was a bench outside. After a few minutes, Cathy followed me out. A few minutes after that, Delia called to say she had grabbed us a seat inside. I sat with Delia while Cathy looked through the gift store. Eventually we were summoned to a table.
I knew what I wanted, chicken livers (which totally disgust Cathy), so I didn't need to consult the menu. We munched fresh pickles until a waitress noticed us and offered to bring coffee. I then waited for Delia to decide what she wanted, in consultation with Cathy. She finally decided on a chicken liver omelette. Cathy mostly got a collection of side orders.
They had made a minor change in what a dinner dish like mine included, so I was able to get a matzo ball soup. I like matzo balls, so I jumped at the chance. I'd had their matzo balls previously and had found them small and tough; this one was large, soft and flavorful. The small bowl had room for the baseball-sized matzo, three strips of cooked carrot and a whole lot of small, short noodles. I usually had little problem finishing an order of chicken livers, but not after consuming a giant matzo. Still, I had to try.
Many places overcook liver, as my father had when I was growing up (his liver had approached shoe sole leather in both texture and taste). I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my livers were cooked perfectly and were juicy. There were a lot of them, too, and they were large.
I had known to order french fries instead of the cottage fries that are standard. Delia, seeing the profusion of giant fries on my plate asked the waitress if she could get french fries instead of what she had, so the waitress brought her a big plate of french fries in addition. Delia then embarrassed us by repeatedly asking if she would be charged extra for them, not understanding the negative reply.
I'm not afraid to admit I can't eat a whole serving of something. I felt comfortable when Delia and Cathy started complaining they were stuffed, so we got boxes to transport the surplus in. All Delia had left were a couple of pieces of liver and her cottage fries, which she hadn't touched, so she threw them in the box with my stuff. Being greedy, though, she also packed away a few of the fresh pickles from the crock on the table.
Heading for the exit, I got behind an old man who, even when he was moving, moved so slowly, slowly taking many short steps, that it was like watching the hour hand on a clock face. I gave up and sneaked out a side door, leaving Delia and Cathy to settle the account. It took them a while but I had found a nice place to wait, with both breeze and shade.
Cathy needed to drop off a package for shipment at Staples and wanted to make a visit to Sam's Club, which she had avoided most of the year. We went up and down every aisle, more for the exercise than to see everything. Cathy picked up a package of fresh baby spinach and about $120 worth of "other stuff she needed". I picked up some grape-sized golden tomatoes, a bottle of peculiar salad dressing and a three-can package of menudo.
As we neared the cash register area, my left knee gave out. I gave Cathy my card, told her to call me when it was time to sign, and went to the food court area to sit and, hopefully, recover. As it turned out, though, my left leg continued to bother me well into the following day.
When we got home, I sat while Cathy put stuff away. She left for her work. I didn't stir except to go to the bathroom once in a while. After a couple of hours, I got my restaurant box and nibbled on the french fries and the cottage fries. Delia arrived while I was snacking and she chewed me out for continuing to eat, even though considerable time had passed. She, it turns out, was still full from her breakfast. A few hours later, to a barrage of criticism of my eating habits, I finished off the livers.
My breakfast had lasted me all day.
- Mood:
sore
