Visitng the Mill and the the Fairy House

"Sharing is overrated."

That's what our server (and co-owner of the place) told us at the Mill on MacArthur, where we went for lunch today.

She'd given only my friend a specials menu, so I was attempting to read it over his shoulder when she made it clear that that wasn't necessary. It was such a great line that I laughed out loud.

The former burrito place was attractive and welcoming with the exception of the big-screen TV over the bar.

Since we were the only people at the bar, we dropped hints about having it turned off, but it was suggested that we just avoid looking at it.

Not my idea of customer service, either.

We began by sharing the black bean and corn cakes drizzled with lime-cilantro sour cream.

They had enough flavor that salt was not required, all too common a necessity  when black bean cakes are under-seasoned.

The music, well, it was something all right.

It was Pandora with the song "Come on Eileen" as the starting point, resulting in what the bartender referred to as "a lot of good cheese."

Thompson Twins, Tears for Fears and a lot of 80s one-hit wonders supported her assessment.

Given the heat, I chose a salad, specifically the wilted spinach with button mushrooms (Dee's), red onions, hard boiled egg and bacon in a warm bacon dressing.

A classic.

The dressing was not hot enough to wilt the raw spinach, but given how fresh-tasting the spinach was, I was more than fine with that; it was a tasty salad.

My friend opted for one of the specials, a grilled tuna and arugula wrap with grape tomatoes, cucumbers, red onions and a smoky balsamic sauce with a potato cake side (he'd had them last visit and wanted me to taste them).

He found the tuna especially fresh and raved about it .

The Mill uses a lot of locally-farmed produce as well as locally raised chicken and beef, so their intentions are in the right place.

It's good to see places concerning themselves with that more and more.

It carries over to the dessert menu where Bev's ice cream is featured.

They had lots of other choices, too, like cookies, key lime pie, cake pops,and cheesecake.

No fools, we went for the buttermilk biscuit berry shortcake (a mere $4) and the mile-high concoction that arrived was a textbook example of a traditional Southern dessert.

Blueberries and strawberries sat on pillows of whipped cream on top of and in between the sliced biscuit.

When we finally rolled out of there, thank god it was for some walking.

Friend took me to Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens for a stroll (the giant mortar and pestle alone was worth the heat).

It couldn't have been a more serendipitous time to be walking the grounds because the musicians were doing soundchecks for tonight's Groovin' in the Garden show, which I am not attending.

With hats to save us from the afternoon sun, we found a bench and sat down to listen to some fine guitar work and singing, not by Nanci Griffith herself, but by the rest of the band.

They were singing a classic Griffith song, though:
I want a simple life, like my mother
One true love for my older years

It sounded great over the empty rose garden, probably better than it will sound tonight once the masses and shrieking children that are so common at LGBG shows blanket the hills.

After that unexpected treat, we walked through the back of the rose garden; and, yes, I stopped to smell them (as Friend noted), but we also enjoyed how every breeze lifted the fragrance and brought it to us even after we left the area.

Our destination was the wildflower meadow where artist Patrick Dougherty had created "Diamonds in the Rough," by weaving a dozen truckloads of saplings together to form what looks like an enormous fairy house with a thatched roof.

With a height of 25', there were eleven domed rooms, twenty doorways and eighteen windows (I know because I looked through all except the four on the second story).

It was amazingly sturdy and should last years before decomposing.

Looking up through the woven branches at the blue sky was beautifully disconcerting.

The structure had a real sense of enclosure but you never lost a sense of the surrounding nature.

With the massive tree-hung wind chimes making beautiful music just across the water, it felt as magical as it looked.

I may be a city girl through and through, but today's sunny afternoon on Northside delivered food, music and art in a practically perfect package.

It even came rose-scented.