Text 3813, 106 rader
Skriven 2013-08-21 22:25:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: today 40
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Court left, and Rosemary is back, and owing to the
bizarre requirements of one of her colleagues, I
accompanied her to drop the person's car off at
Kingston, whence we were to take the bus back east.
I said, fine, let's let me go to the bank and then
we can have luhch down there someplace.

Rosemary remembered a place that she regarded as
"nicer" than the average clam shack, near the bank,
but she didn't remember the exact name but thought
she knew where it was. So. We pulled into the parking
lot and discovered that the place has morphed into
Arturo Joe's Grill and Cigar LNG (I presume this is
an abbreviation for lounge? whatever); this plus the
empty lot gave us pause, but we were hungry, so
whatever again, we went in, finding a few people
quietly eating in the restaurant side and rather more
sitting in the (non-smoking!, as is everything in the
state) bar.

One waitress, bus-girl, hostess, cashier rolled into
one - Rebecca, cute and agreeable. When she brought
out the menus, I discovered that the drink menu had
no prices (I pity the sucker who orders Remy Martin XO
without asking what it would cost), and the food menu
just screamed "frozen premade." I was ready to walk out,
but Rebecca had been so nice, plus the bar had poured
me a rather nice Guinness, so. Linguini with clams,
red or white, standard dish: the menu at least was
honest and admitted it was made with "tender chopped
clams"; scratch that. Vitello Guiseppe, finished "with
a splash of soy"; scratch that too. Rosemary decided
on calamari balsamic - "tender rings, breaded then
fried, sauteed with sun-dried tomatoes, mushrooms,
black olives, artichoke hearts, fire-roasted red
peppers, scallions, garlic and olive oil. Finished
with a balsamic vinegar reduction. 9.50. Calamari
may be enjoyed over pasta. Add 4.50." I ordered baked
sole, "fresh sole with seasoned bread crumbs baked
golden brown with garlic, butter, and white wine. 16."
I wasn't expecting a whole lot, but if they weren't
lying and the fish was fresh, that might be good.
I was told that I could get pasta (angel hair, linguini,
penne, or wagon wheels) or a vegetable medley for a side.
On inquiry, the medley was tomato-based and had broccoli
and (of course) zucchini - I told her to stop right there,
as I've eaten enough zucchini for one full lifetime, and
I would get angel hair, and could I have agli olio instead
of the house red sauce?

The food took a while. During the wait Rebecca asked if we
wanted bread; answer, no, save you a few cents and a trip
to the kitchen. She smiled, and the angels sang. But no
food came. Rosemary finished a cup of coffee, and a new
one was offered. She asked for ice water, which came
reasonably promptly. Eventually Rebecca came back
staggering under the weight of our dinners (the lunch
offerings included no seafood at all, just mundane things
like pizza, burgers, and reubeny sandwiches).

The calamari over pasta came on a gigantic platter -
this was prebreaded frozen rings, fried dark brown,
tossed with the promised ingredients, over al dente
linguini. It was also delicious; Rosemary opined that
the balsamic reduction was a stroke of if not genius
certainly talent and good taste. And it was a big
enough portion that the leftovers would easily serve
two for lunch next day.

It was an at least 14-oz slab of fish that came my
way, almost certainly fresh, almost certainly halibut.
The breadcrumb topping was buttery, garlicky, and
quite delicious except for a few spots where a splash
of raw cheap wine (but better than the Mezza Corona
at home) turned the crumbs into a gummy paste. The
garnishes of lemon wedges and parsley sprigs were
pretty limp and had definitely seen better days. The
angel hair agli olio was okay, the pasta al dente,
the garlic garlicky, the oil some cheap third pressing
if it was from olives at all. I called for a shaker of
red pepper, which improved it quite a bit. Rebecca
came back with a little dish of the odious zucchini
concoction, saying that the new policy was to serve
both pasta and a vegetable for the fancier dishes, and
I could do whatever I liked with it. I left it alone.
The fish disappeared with a couple ounces going across
the table, but 2/3 of Rosemary's dish remained: we
asked for a to-go box. Rebecca kind of chuckled as she
asked if we wanted to see the dessert menu. We made
inarticulate full noises, and she chuckled again and
brought the bill and a couple little sambuca-flavored
jujube-like candies: it came to $49 counting tax and
tip, a considerable but surprisingly justifiable expense.

While we ate several parties came in, including a 6-top.
I wondered how the kitchen would handle all those people.

Off to Kingston, where the bus was scheduled at 1:23. We
parked the car at 1:20 way off in the distance the way
Ann had specified, and hustled as fast as our elderly
legs could take us to the bus stop, where the driver
noticed and actually waited for us. 45 minutes back to
the island, $3 for both of us, a bargain.
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