I Couldn't Not Do Fried Yard Bird

Ocean temperature: a brisk 60 degrees (to quote the lifeguard's sign)
Beach read: The Late Mr. Shakespeare
Best song heard randomly on the radio: Anchor, Alejandro Escovedo

For the woefully uninformed, today was National Fried Chicken Day and lest you think I have nothing better to do than keep track of such things, please know that I only found out by accident. But once I knew, there was no not celebrating it (I had an ex once who told me I was the queen of the double negatives and there I go proving him right again). The question was how?

The perfect scenario presented itself when Thing 7 spotted a free performance of "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown" outdoors on Roanoke Island. Over the years, I've attended more than a few of their performance series, although in the past, it's always been Shakespeare that was being staged. While this was about as far from Shakespeare as possible, it somehow seemed like perfectly appropriate entertainment for a fried chicken feast.

We decided to do it up right, so rather than the standard blanket meal, we brought chairs, a small table and even the Andre Brunel bottle candleholder for a little soundside ambiance. Besides the star of the meal, we had pasta salad, local watermelon, black bean and corn salad and vino. And lots and lots of napkins because we were planning on eating as much fried chicken as possible.

We got several compliments from other attendees about our "elegant" set-up (it was the rickety table and the improvised candleholder that seemed to impress), but our meal was about as down-home as you could get. In honor of my favorite grandmother, I ate both wings first; she always said that the wings had the best-tasting meat and whether that's true or not, it's no concession at all to start small when you're talking about yard bird.

The play was, well, about as Charlie Brown as it gets. The highlight was the Snoopy character, played by a guy who danced and sang like one of the Triangle Players' best showmen and I mean that as a sincere compliment. He made the show for us, providing the best voice, the most sinuous movement and also superb comic timing. The fact that he was playing a beagle may have endeared him to me a tad, but it was mostly his spot-on characterization. Honestly, of all the Peanuts characters, Snoopy is the most fun and definitely the least neurotic anyway.

If National Fried Chicken Day slipped right by you without any acknowledgement, fret not. There's always next year, although there's no guarantee you won't wind up eating your greasy feast in front of even more lackluster entertainment, so be mindful of how best to celebrate.

And don't hesitate to use a double negative to express your positives. I know I don't.

Dudes Provide Cake by Candlelight

Best song randomly heard on the radio today: Metal and Steel, Bob Schneider

The theme for our happy hour today was lightening, with alcoholic accompaniment by Andre Brunel Cotes du Rhone Villages Cuvee Sabrine 2007.

Surrounded, as we are here, on two sides by water masses, we enjoyed a show of thunderstorms from three directions: out to sea, on the sound and due south.

Mother Nature was metaphorically wrapping her angry arms around us and we welcomed the embrace, but especially the show.

And what a show it was!

Double-forked lightening, horizontal lightening, heat lightening, we seldom went more than 90 seconds before seeing the next hit somewhere.

Had we been the easily-frightened types, the Cotes du Rhone was right there to soothe us.

As it was, it was right there for purely pleasurable reasons (yum, is that licorice on the finish?), as well as practical ones (hey, we can make a candle-holder for the porch out of it now!).

A couple of hours later, the lightening gave way to a gentle rain, our signal that happy hour was finished and it was time to get cleaned up for our dinner date.

Thing 2 and I were meeting the artist and his wife from last night for dinner at a locally-favored restaurant, Food Dudes.

Having doubts about a place with a name that sounds like it originated in a frat house, we were nonetheless assured that it was a gathering spot for locals for good reason.

It was small, in a strip center, had loads of local art on the walls and was filled with non-tourist looking faces; we were clearly the only ones who didn't know everyone else.

As it turned out, by the time we left, we knew more than a few of them, as various people were introduced to us and joined the conversation.

The Food Dudes showed their Asian influences with the fresh-tasting appetizer special we got.

It was a crab and avocado spring roll, more crab than avocado and enhanced by the cuke/cilantro salsa and hot chile sauce.

Appetites piqued by that course, everyone else ordered fish, but I was led astray by the siren song of the Dudes' south of the border influences.

I was most curious about their unique and colorful-sounding nachos: green chile con queso over blue and white corn chips, with roasted local corn salsa, house-made pico de gallo, sour cream and scallions.

Not a trace of cheddar, lettuce or jalapeno in sight.

Yes, please, I'd like those.

And they were everything I'd hoped they'd be.

The green chile con queso was worlds beyond melted cheese, the roasted corn salsa bathed in that queso made me forget my fondness for black beans on nachos and their pico de gallo provided the absent peppers' heat.

I will never think of nachos quite the same again.

Thanks, Food Dudes. How did I ever doubt you?

Their dessert specialty is 12-layer chocolate cake (it's actually yellow cake with chocolate icing) but Thing 2 and I were way too full to consider anything more.

Our new local buds insisted we take a piece home to share on the porch later and who were we to argue with local custom?

They were doing the same and they don't even have an ocean to admire as they eat theirs like we do.

Or, I'll bet, an Andre Brunel bottle candle holder flickering just enough candlelight to ensure we don't miss a crumb.