It’s Not a Restaurant, But

What is your favorite restaurant?

I admit that right now I don’t have a favorite restaurant. There are lots I like (even here in Cameron), but no favorite. But I think I have a favorite chef at the moment!

We met this fine chef on a visit to Lee’s high school friend and his spouse, along with our frequent visitor, Matt. We are all pretty compatible in our philosophical leanings, so the conversation was good. It was so good that I forgot to take any photos except plants in the wild area behind the house.

Anyway, we are extremely well on this visit. I’m pretty sure that if I could hire a personal chef, P. would be it. Everything was healthy but delicious, exactly what I’d make for myself if I had the time and patience! Examples:

• Homemade Gorgonzola salad dressing. It was so thick and savory, not as intense as blue cheese.
• Salmon en croute. The best way to cook salmon. Topped with a papaya salsa. Whoa. That was good.
• Then there were extremely cute little purple potatoes, the purplest I ever saw.
• I forgot homemade pumpkin rolls that were only subtly pumpkin. I never had anything like it.
• Pumpkins showed up for pie in dessert, too.

What a meal! And she made it look easy. But wait, there’s more! In the morning we had this Amish oatmeal bake with fruit, nuts, and eggs in it. It may sound weird, but it was fantastic. I was ready to go raise a barn after that.

Who needs a restaurant when you can visit a gourmet cook? I wish I were that talented with food. But we got to enjoy it!

Visiting Suburbia

The drive to where we visited was very pretty, since we passed many beautiful cattle and horse ranches, but after we checked into our hotel (Lee needs a couch to sleep on and it’s weird to request that of hosts, like you reject their lovely bed), the GPS routed us through suburb after suburb. These were new, nice suburbs.

Now, I lived in Suburb World while my sons were growing up. I was used to the fancy entrances, the ponds with fountains, the elaborate playgrounds and pools, and all that, though we lived in a less fancy suburb.

I felt kind of like Granny Clampett arriving in Beverley Hills after living her life in the Ozarks. Jed! It must take a passel of sheep to get that grass so short! But where are their pens?

Yeah, I obviously have been out in the country/small rural towns for so long I’ve forgotten all that HOA perfection. To me, getting the fence lines weed-eated is dang fancy now. All those perfect lawns, those non-native plants, and those giant houses on tiny lots look strange to me now.

I truly enjoyed the trip down memory lane, though. But I’m now more comfortable in towns with a magnificent old home next to a 50s ranch, with a house with no lawn and no recent maintenance next to that. And of course, non-functional vehicles randomly strewn around.

And out in the country, various pieces of equipment in various stages of utility lurk behind various outbuildings in various stages of construction. Often there are more travel trailers than homes. That describes the Hermits’ Rest, and it’s fine with me!

I’m glad there are places for all types of folks! It was fun visiting the Houston environs, and who knows. We may return. The food and hospitality are good!