A Trim Reckoning

I was just waiting on a friend.

By the time he joined me at Three Notch'd Brewing's Collab House, Bard Unbound was already well into Shakespeare's drinking scenes. Since I was already enjoying the performance, where he was invaluable was with his sampler of four beers, including Falstaff's Folly, a beer brewed in collaboration with the Bard crew.

I tasted through all four, intrigued and open, but did not come out of it any more a beer lover than I went in. Still, it's all about the experience.

Can we still be friends?

Since it had been a month since our last rendezvous - I know, what kind of friends put that much time between laying eyes on each other? - we had plenty to catch up on and a noisy brewery wasn't exactly the ideal place to do it.

Instead, we crossed the river to Laura Lee's, more on principle than anything for me, since a friend had gone on record as saying I never go to the Southside.

Or perhaps I do go and just keep it on the down low.

That would have been tough tonight given the nearly full house (back to back stellar reviews will do that to a place), although we did park ourselves at the far end of the bar away from the crowds.

Personally, I was completely satisfied with a soundtrack of Paul Simon and fresh flowers along the bar.

And the menu! That was a love poem to Spring - the ramps! the asparagus! the softshells! - and we wasted no time in diving into the seasonal pool.

Glasses of Vina Galana Verdejo accompanied roasted tomato soup with whipped burrata and ramp oil, followed by softshell crabs with cauliflower puree, bacon, asparagus and mushrooms in ginger butter and a side of  broccolini with almonds, preserved lemon and shallots in brown butter.

It's not the first time I've led a man to softshells and, with any luck, it won't be the last.

All my friends say.

A favorite Gemini joined us for a bit, showing off a photo of a new-to-her vintage Bianchi, lamenting the porch furniture her mother removed from her porch and insisting she has no memory.

That's why she has me, despite the fact that she's convinced I make up the memories I tell her.

The friend currently working through his larva stage showed off a photo of art, lamented waiting too long to get Shins' tickets and insisted he really needs enough bikes for an ultimate Frisbee team. That would be seven. Seven!

That's why he has me, to keep him in line when he needs it most, which is more often than you'd think.

That's what friends are for.