Goulash was "junk" soup growing up. We just tossed in anything we had with some beef bouillon and tomato sauce then we ate. This is my way of saying here is just a mass jumble of thoughts.
First, I haven't written since April?? You don't realize how busy you've been until you stop and look back. Of course, May is always a scramble it seems. And June, July, August...well, you get the point. It's a good busy, though. I spent all of May, and will spend all summer, doing things for my babies. And what's better than that??? Nothing. I am constantly amazed at how much I love them.
New topic! How awesomely lame has the summer movie season been so far?? I am super excited about almost everything coming out, but according to experts, May is supposed to set the tone for the summer. Well, this year that tone sucked. Shrek 4, really 4? Sex and the City 2? I'm supposed to believe they really looked like that in the desert? Like I care anyway. Want to know what's bad? I can't even think of any other movies that have debuted. That's how bad it's been. But with Toy Story 3, ATeam, Eclipse, The Expendables, and more still to come, I have faith that it can only go up from here.
Switch! How awesome were the cartoons from the 80s and 90s? I'll tell you: really freaking awesome. I am trying to introduce them to my babies, and I find myself having the best time reminiscing. And can I say that they are better than the cartoons on now? I mean, seriously, have you watched Cartoon Network recently? Not to mention that Nick doesn't even show cartoons anymore. And the live shows are stupid. I mean, worse than just kid stupid.
Last topic: Did anyone else hate the character of Worf's son on Star Trek? What was his name anyway? It was like Gene Roddenberry's version of Scrappy from Scooby Doo. I can honestly say that for the first and probably only time, I would have been fine with a storyline that killed off a kid. That kid. Worf's kid. I know it's a weird ramble, but I just had to get that off my chest. Couldn't let that anger fester.
I'm sure there are more thoughts I could toss in, but I'm tired. Oh to sleep....
Showing posts with label great food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label great food. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Friday, August 7, 2009
What We Really Want
I have already said that I'm a southern girl. I grew up in towns that ranged from a few hundred people when I was young to now living in a city of millions. I've eaten at diners where everyone there really did know our names, shopped in grocery stores where I could say "Put this on my account", and lived down roads where I really did have to walk miles to the bus stop. Now, I live in a city where I can get food delivered at midnight, can't see a star to save my life, and see high school graduating classes that are bigger than some of the schools I attended. And what I've noticed in both places is this: we love convenience.
Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge fan of small town life and the "little man" (thanks, Mr. Jackson). I would live in the middle of thousands of acres with the nearest town being twenty miles away with just a few dozen folk I know, and be ecstatic. But I've noticed that we worship convenience above all else - yes, even money.
Think about it. What is being wealthy but another check on our list of conveniences? With lots of money, shopping, bills, even college for our kids and retirement for ourselves become much more convenient.
In some of the small towns I grew up in folks shopped at the local grocer because he was their only choice for miles around. As I got older, and Kroger and Wal-Mart loomed ever nearer, I watched several local grocers hang their "Closed" signs permanently. In other words, even in small towns, where we went to church with the small business owner, we only offered our loyalty as long as it was convenient. We would throw him under a bus for a supercenter around the corner. And we did essentially that.
It's very obvious in large cities that laziness rules us all, but most Americans tend to think that the small, rural communities are less driven by such evil concepts as convenience and greed. I am here to say that isn't true. It may seem that way, but only because geographically we aren't capable of having the same conveniences as the larger cities. The fact that we still support the local grocer to avoid driving thirty or forty miles into town is, in itself, an act of convenience. Not some noble desire to stave off the evil corporations and preserve our way of life.
I ramble about all of this because the other evening my husband and I went to dinner at some little diner in our neighborhood. This place is pretty prominent in its location (right across from a very busy intersection), and has stood there for over a decade. We'd seen it since we moved here almost six years ago. But we'd always opted for more well-known places to eat instead.
On this ridiculously hot (it is August in Texas after all) night, I had found a coupon for the diner so we decided to try it out. (We'll eat almost anything for a "buy one/get one" combo!)
Practically deserted, the owner himself took our order while asking about our lives and offering bits of advice, too. We ordered our food, sat in a booth, and studied the pictures of Elvis, Marilyn (Munroe, not Manson), and Mr. Sinatra himself on the walls. I noticed large donation checks to various local children's programs on the wall from years past. My husband got a kick out of the annual car show displays hanging around. The atmosphere was fun and relaxing, and the owner was obviously active in his community.
Our food arrived looking as beautiful as if we had been in some five star steakhouse. It looked as if they had taken the time to pick out all the pale lettuce from my husband's salad, his tomatoes were so fresh I could literally smell them from across the table, and my grilled zucchini was so good I was doing my version of Meg Ryan's scene with Billy Crystal. Needless to say, our food was incredibly delicious. I mean, no-words-to-describe-it good.
And they probably won't be open by Christmas.
It saddens me to know that someone who is an avid supporter of kids' programs, and who offers such superb service and product in this age of "quantity over quality" will not survive the year. But if I were truly honest with myself, I have to admit that come Sunday, when we pick a restaurant after church, I probably won't think of this cute little diner. Instead, the same old litany of "Chili's, Olive Garden, mexican food or burgers?" will probably run through our car with the kids wanting some place where they can play while we eat some bland version of what is supposed to be fajitas at the table in peace.
And months from now I'll remember fondly one little Greek man with incredible food and a cute diner. While on my way to Wal-Mart.
Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge fan of small town life and the "little man" (thanks, Mr. Jackson). I would live in the middle of thousands of acres with the nearest town being twenty miles away with just a few dozen folk I know, and be ecstatic. But I've noticed that we worship convenience above all else - yes, even money.
Think about it. What is being wealthy but another check on our list of conveniences? With lots of money, shopping, bills, even college for our kids and retirement for ourselves become much more convenient.
In some of the small towns I grew up in folks shopped at the local grocer because he was their only choice for miles around. As I got older, and Kroger and Wal-Mart loomed ever nearer, I watched several local grocers hang their "Closed" signs permanently. In other words, even in small towns, where we went to church with the small business owner, we only offered our loyalty as long as it was convenient. We would throw him under a bus for a supercenter around the corner. And we did essentially that.
It's very obvious in large cities that laziness rules us all, but most Americans tend to think that the small, rural communities are less driven by such evil concepts as convenience and greed. I am here to say that isn't true. It may seem that way, but only because geographically we aren't capable of having the same conveniences as the larger cities. The fact that we still support the local grocer to avoid driving thirty or forty miles into town is, in itself, an act of convenience. Not some noble desire to stave off the evil corporations and preserve our way of life.
I ramble about all of this because the other evening my husband and I went to dinner at some little diner in our neighborhood. This place is pretty prominent in its location (right across from a very busy intersection), and has stood there for over a decade. We'd seen it since we moved here almost six years ago. But we'd always opted for more well-known places to eat instead.
On this ridiculously hot (it is August in Texas after all) night, I had found a coupon for the diner so we decided to try it out. (We'll eat almost anything for a "buy one/get one" combo!)
Practically deserted, the owner himself took our order while asking about our lives and offering bits of advice, too. We ordered our food, sat in a booth, and studied the pictures of Elvis, Marilyn (Munroe, not Manson), and Mr. Sinatra himself on the walls. I noticed large donation checks to various local children's programs on the wall from years past. My husband got a kick out of the annual car show displays hanging around. The atmosphere was fun and relaxing, and the owner was obviously active in his community.
Our food arrived looking as beautiful as if we had been in some five star steakhouse. It looked as if they had taken the time to pick out all the pale lettuce from my husband's salad, his tomatoes were so fresh I could literally smell them from across the table, and my grilled zucchini was so good I was doing my version of Meg Ryan's scene with Billy Crystal. Needless to say, our food was incredibly delicious. I mean, no-words-to-describe-it good.
And they probably won't be open by Christmas.
It saddens me to know that someone who is an avid supporter of kids' programs, and who offers such superb service and product in this age of "quantity over quality" will not survive the year. But if I were truly honest with myself, I have to admit that come Sunday, when we pick a restaurant after church, I probably won't think of this cute little diner. Instead, the same old litany of "Chili's, Olive Garden, mexican food or burgers?" will probably run through our car with the kids wanting some place where they can play while we eat some bland version of what is supposed to be fajitas at the table in peace.
And months from now I'll remember fondly one little Greek man with incredible food and a cute diner. While on my way to Wal-Mart.
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