13 May, 2019.
If I’d ventured a guess, I’d certainly have said there was no way I’d order a thick slice of prime rib at this small town restaurant. I’m a snob about such things as meat, and I confess to a belief that the only place on earth that serves excellent cuts of beef is Kansas City. I’ve made the mistake of ordering what ultimately turned out to be some kind of prepackaged and microwaved slice of grey meat-like substance in the past and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
But guess what? I wandered past a table and got a glimpse of a mouth watering slab, and my mind was changed. Dinner turned out to be a very happy surprise.
But the place was hopping. (Apparently the locals were much more aware of the fare than I had been.) And it took forever to get seated, to get served, and to get food on the table.
We chatted about our day, our week, and the coming weekend. And I studied the people around me.
One table over, several people chatted and enjoyed a meal that for us was only a name on the menu. We munched on bread, sipped drinks, and I made note of their character.
Uni-Ball Vision pen and watercolor wash in Stillman and Birn sketchbook.