Our friend Nat is visiting tonight – lasagnia is in the stove. I have been sharing a story about her and Dana with many others lately and thought it may bring a smile to some of you here.
103 weeks ago (almost 2 years to the date), Dana and I found ourselves in London, England. Nat joined us from Toronto and we reunited with other friends and family. It was a fantastic trip and a wonderful experience.
Nat spoiled us – I am so grateful to this day. She got us in to the Savoy Hotel – it is currently closed and under significant renovations. She got us in an adjoining room. The Savoy is the grandest of the grand ‘ol ladies of London – and the only place in the UK where one can drive on the right (and “correct” ) side of the road!
We planned dinner for a group of people at the Savoy Grill. I love my beef – and they have been carving it at the table for thousands of years in the exact same setting (ok, not quite that long – but knights and Queens have eaten here). I was most excited to be heading for a wonderful meal with friends – new and old.
I knew the plan for the night – start at the piano bar, migrate to reservations at the palais du cow and be fed like a nobleman. I had made it and this was proof. Here I was in London, England and I was an adult. I was a king of my own palace. I was large and in charge. I felt like Tony Danza – and I was the boss!
We locked the door between our adjoining rooms and Dana jumped in the shower. I plugged the iron in and got ready to prep the evenings outfit. I was ready for the night ahead.
I felt particularly manly as I used a shaving brush to lather up the dish of soap and then my face. I shaved with a new blade and was ready to take on the world. This was goign to be one of the best meals of my life – if not in taste, certainly in status. I was amped. I walked into the living room, BBC playing. I laid my shirt on the ironing board and decided to do something that seemed to make perfect sense – a quick touch of the iron would let me know if it was ready to go.
WTF was I thinking?!?!?!?!!!!
It seemed to make sense at the time – I thought I was going to find out the iron was not ready. Unfortunately it was ready. A sizzle preceeded a burning smell and I started to jump. 3 blisters raised across 3 digits. I ran to the bathroom. [It's ok to laugh - I turned out ok and the purpose of this post is to laugh at me and the stupid things we all do that seem like a good idea at the time].
The Prime Rib was fantastic – it was carved twice at the table. My served carved thick slices of glory that filled my plate – Dana then transformed these wonderful hunks into bite-sized bits of pelasure. I went from being the man to being the child and needing my sweety to cut my meal up for me. I was the glorious manchild!
Moral of the story? Food is only as good as the company and a meal never makes the man. Food bonds friends and brands us all with wonderful memories, thoughts and shared experiences. I wouldn’t change the experience for the world – although my fingers still hurt when I think of the Savoy!