A new lunch discovery

Food seems to be the only topic on my mind these days. I blame it on the holidays. But today, friend Carol and I went to lunch. I actually thought long and hard about someplace new to go and came up empty handed, so I suggested a familiar place we both like. “We ate dinner there last night,” she said. Back to the drawing board.

We ended up at the Black Rooster Bakery, which is close to my house. I had heard they added café-style seating, and indeed they had improved on the bar stools against a wall which used to be the only seating. There are now maybe seven or eight tables in a clean, bright atmosphere—and quiet. You can hear yourself and the person you’re with. Bonus: the sandwiches were delicious. We both chose the TCU whatever—a BLT with avocado. I wanted mine on a croissant, but Carol chose five-grain bread.

The only problem was that my croissant had no bottom. It looked lovely, but when I tried to pick it up, there was no bottom layer to the croissant to hold it together—would have made for messy eating. The mistake was cheerfully and quickly corrected. Several other choices on the menu intrigued me, but I will definitely go back.

Black Rooster is now a subsidiary or whatever of the beloved Lunch Box in Ridglea, and I wonder if that doesn’t account for the improved lunch opportunities and seating. They still offer an enticing array of cookies and muffins in the display counter, and a barrel in the middle of the eating space held brown paper bags which, it turned out, were specially baked dog treats. I’m pretty fussy about what I give Sophie—that translates into I don’t introduce anything new, and I never give table scraps except what falls on the floor when I’m cooking. So I passed on the doggie treats. And I have a houseful of Christmas goodies—toffee and bourbon balls from kind friends—so I didn’t need the cookies.

Tonight, I fixed a taco salad—nothing unusual about that, except that we (Jordan collaborated on this effort) used the Chuy’s lime/cilantro dip I’d made earlier for salad dressing. It was a great mix with the taco meat—and yes, I made my own taco seasoning from spices on hand rather than buying the pre-made mix.

And in spite of all this, I got some work done. Tomorrow? That gingerbread I’ve been talking about forever and haven’t made. My conscience will be greatly relieved when I bake it.

And then I tell myself, Christmas is not about what we ought to do but about what our heart wants to do.

More doggy stories

Kenny the dog trainer came today. Sophie learned "sit" in a snap, but hey! She already knew it. The question for her is "Do I want to sit right now?" Then we worked on not going out the open the front door--she was pretty good about it, but we'll have to see how she does in future practice sessions with me. And always the jumping--we worked as much on my correction technique as we did on disciplining her. She had a real workout, and I expected her to be exhausted tonight--great expectatons don't always pan out. She has found a new chew toy--the Kilim rug I just put back down in the office. Took it up when she wasn't potty trained, had it cleaned, and moved it. Put it back for the fundraiser last Sunday. She bunches it up to make a nice, chewable edge. I'll give it a couple of days with trying discipline. I need to teach her not to chew on it, but I don't want to sacrifice a good rug.
Tonight was memoir class and as always I planned to feed Linda. This time I thought I'd get sandwiches from the artisan bakery in the neighborhood--on their website they list several really enticing combinations, but a tiny note warns that they have different sandwiches on different days. I called. They had a muffaletta with green olives (of course) and another, maybe turkey, with tapenade. I really really do not like olives. Asked if they could make a couple with the olives on the side and was told they were already made (at one o'clock in the afternoon). Hmmm--not sure I want sandwiches for supper that were made in the morning. Called Linda. Helpfully, she said, "I love olives!" When asked if she wanted to go to the Neighborhood Grill (made famous in my Kelly O'Connell mysteries, as if it weren't already the favorite neighborhood hangout) or have salad at the house, she said, again being helpful, "It doesn't matter to me." I said we'd go out; when she got here I had thrown everything in the vegetable drawer into a tossed salad, added a can of tuna, and made a quick dressing. Linda added an avocado she'd gotten in a quick stop at Sam's. Really good.
The snack at memoir class was finger sandwiches made with thinly sliced bagels--sliced vertically and not horizontally as  you normally would with a bagel. One class member works at a church where they have a kitchen operating all day every day (my dream for our church). The cook slices donated bagels and fills them with various things. Tonight we had ham salad on jalopeno bagels and chicken salad on whole wheat. I loved the jalopeno/ham and now have the leftovers--thank you, Claudine. The church also uses this profusion of bagels to feed the homeless once a week.
Memoir class was good as always. We went from a straightforward and well done piece about a family member to a fall-off-your-chair funny excerpt from a novel and ended with a thoughtful and provocative piece about family relationships and not rushing to judgment. Then we all got to talking about yoga, hot yoga, dangerous poses, careless teachers, etc. Tonight the laughter sticks with me and echoes in my ears.