Sitting at the same bar a few day later....

Tonight after getting Mom settled with dinner at her, second, post stroke rehab; Lisa and I decided to head back to one of our favorite restaurants for a quick bite and a few pints. Hoping this time not to run into "Frank"  Fate was on our side; Frank had indeed been there and had only just left before we arrived.  Lisa and I decide to sit closer to the service end of the bar, it tends to be closer to normal.

Soon after a couple in their late 70's or early 80's sits down next to us. She orders a a double Absolute with water on the rocks; he orders a ginger-ale with a side of water; I only catch a few words, here and there. I did hear her tell her fellow octogenarian, while the were discussing the restaurants background music. "That is Rufus with Chaka Khan...1973 Damn if she was not right!  It was 74 but what he Hell, close enough.

Well our octogenarian had missed the course on how much perfume, par fume or ode d toilet to apply.  Tables around us could no longer taste our food as this heavy cloud lingered over our heads, threatening to suffocate us at any moment.

To our left was the service bar and as it was the end of the night, gradually the kitchen staff came out to have a beer before heading home. Over the many we years we have gotten to know many of the kitchen staff and often have a brief chat with them. Tonight was no different; We had several great conversations about sausages, foie gras and brown butter gastriques. Restaurant names were scribbled and promises of attendance assured. As the evening wore on more of the kitchen staff emerged. They grabbed a beer and joined our
conversation. In Spanish, English and Gibberish we talked about food...and a little Phillies and Eagles. Despite our many differences, we had a strong bond, a food bond. There was a respect that transcended all cultural class distinctions about money, it was about food.  Here we were among friends.  Once a dish was mentioned...say sauerkraut; each person, in turn, explained their favorite way to cook it and why. Others disagreed but in the end agreed that it was perfect for it's application

Frank had left much earlier; Frank hates Parmesan crusted truffle fries! That was a great night at a restaurant.