Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Immune to the Stuff

How appropriate that today's birthday lunch had an eighties soundtrack.

Yes, I'm older and yes, the eighties are still all too familiar.

While enjoying a breezy wait on the bench in front of Black Sheep, I saved a woman from falling into the abyss by pointing out the warning painted on the silver grate where she stood.

That would be the one saying not to stand on it. Keep off!

She was a first-timer, so it was understandable that she hadn't known to read the ground where she was standing.

Studying the menu, she sought my advice so I also filled her in on battleships as long as I was mentoring her.

Friend and I were given a table against the wall and pounced on our server when she appeared, having decided on eats while sunning ourselves outside.

Despite Friend having gotten up earlier than I had today, he wanted breakfast.

That meant coffee and the South Anna scramble (eggs scrambled with smoked trout, mushrooms, roasted tomato and bacon with chive and horseradish hollandaise over toast) while I went the lunch route.

At Black Sheep, that always means starting with an Abita root beer (I'll lie and say it's 'cause it's made with pure Louisiana sugar cane) and a salad of strawberries, yellow cherry tomatoes, arugula, fresh mozzarella, pine nuts and basil in a honey balsamic vinaigrette.

As we ate and bobbed our heads to the past, we noticed all the battleships coming out of the kitchen.

Interestingly, they were all going to women not men (not that there's anything wrong with that), including the woman I'd schooled a short time before (patting the wrapped leftover 'ship later, she told me, "It's for my husband." Yea, sure).

Friend's mega-meal arrived on an enormous glass fish-shaped platter, no doubt a nod to the smoked trout buried in the rich concoction.

My salad was pretty in a colorful way, complete with edible purple pea shoot flowers adorning it, with the creamy mozzarella so fresh it melted in my mouth.

Hearing Robert Palmer got us talking about the show we'd seen together last week, why Creed cover bands cause people to leave shows and about the innate human need for companionship.

"Might as well face it," I told him, causing him to laugh out loud. He's known me long enough to know exactly what I meant.

It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough.

Of birthday celebrations, that is. Yea, right.

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