Sunday, March 21, 2010

Saturday Supper

Sarah had a soccer game, and it had been too long since I’d seen her play. Richard had long-since finished framing Holly’s photos with various celebrities she’s fed in her position as chef for the Georgia governor’s mansion, but still hadn’t had the opportunity to hang what Holly refers to as her “wall of shame.” I’m wanting to pick up some ingredients from Whole Foods (called Harry’s in Atlanta) that we just don’t seem to be able to find in the south eastern-most tip of Tennessee. We had nothing scheduled for the week-end anyway, so away we went to Atlanta.

We were spending the night at Holly’s, and didn’t want her to have to feed us. We also wanted to see more of Rachel’s family. After the soccer game and the hanging of the gallery of famous folks’ photos, we took the grandgirls, their parents, a friend of Rebecca, and Holly and Don to a restaurant near the Marietta square.

I have long said that since I can cook, as can Richard, I don’t go out to eat just to eat; I go for the restaurant experience. This was quadrupley true with this table, as Rachel is also a good cook. And did I mention that Holly is a professional chef? Her husband cooks for her at home. I’ll admit that our standards may be a bit on the high side.

Well, this restaurant failed on so many counts, I lost count. This is quite a shame because their recipes were very good. The service was seriously sad; the food was cold; and the first of us to get our food was finished eating before the last entrée arrived. All of this, and the owner said, “Well, at least the food was good.” He didn’t even offer a coupon for a repeat attempt or a cup of coffee on the house. He also didn’t credit any of our substantial bill, to which was added a mandatory gratuity. We won’t soon repeat that restaurant, but we did have a lot of fun.

Eda has given Richard her “Top of the Line Baker” seal of approval, and Gayle has requested biscotti, having read about it on my blog -- but I know she shouldn’t eat wheat. In addition to ingredients for our own food fantasies, I think Harry’s would be a great place to find exotic alternatives to wheat flour for Richard to bake into biscotti for Gayle.

We’ll brunch with Holly and Don, feasting on their corned beef hash and eggs; maybe make it to a movie; hop on into Harry’s; and then head home to the holler. It’s nice knowing that we’re so conveniently and centrally located in a triangle consisting of three major metropolitan areas: Atlanta, Chattanooga, and Knoxville. We just need to take better advantage of their offerings. Perhaps we’ll create a routine of Saturday suppers in the “big cities.”

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