Leaving
Eastman is one of the more difficult tasks I've ever undertaken.
Fabulous friendships forged on the fiery furnace of Eastman's fairways
will now be stretched out over a 1500 mile canvas. Some of them are
bound to fade away. Knowing this makes leaving painful; however, the
biggest problem I'm having revolves around dinner: bombarded by so many
invitations to farewell dinners, how do I choose? Whom should I offend?
What are we having? Will there be broccoli?
What did I ever do to deserve this gastronomic generosity which has been particularly flush of late? I'm not being coy here; I really wonder what causes the people of Eastman to be so kind and giving especially when it comes to me and my family. Ada's terrible illness and her brave, stubborn, beautiful fight brought out the best in quite a few people, and that "best" has been transferred to me for whatever reason.
I'm not worthy...but if you promise to stay away from the cauliflower family, I'll grace you with my presence for dinner.
Oh, and I'm not a big fan of fish...eggplant...squashes of all stripes...cold soups...beets...I can live without asparagus, lima beans, and, well, the list goes on. Really, when you think about it, I'm a food toddler. A large food toddler.
Once
I get to Fort Walton Beach on March 1, the food fun should really
start. I have no skills in the kitchen, none whatsoever, and until I
meet a few folks and find out which ones are broccoli people, there
won't be any dinner invitations. Here's how bad I am: when I am in the
frozen food section, foraging for sustenance, I won't buy anything
unless I am convinced the cooking directions are within my skill set. If
there are extra "flavor pouches" that need to be added partway through
the process, forget it. Too complicated. As a matter of fact anything
that has more than one step is automatically eliminated. Essentially
this leaves certain frozen pizzas and ice cream. Sad, I know, but true.
Of course I realize that this void in my life can change; with a little
guidance and a big dose of confidence, maybe one day I'll be able to
prepare an actual meal with more than one moving part. Hey, maybe once I
overcome this deficiency, I'll feel good about myself and take up the
subject of home repair, another area in which I am currently not what
one would call a man. Anything is possible, right? There are plenty of
resources on the internet for a guy like me. Wait, what about cars? I
could delve into that area too.
Or not.
The golf club that I will probably be joining in Florida, The Club at Hidden Creek, has a restaurant facility called The Tuscan Grill. I like that.
First, it has my second favorite restaurant word in the title: GRILL! (My most favorite word is Barbecue; in third place is Grille, which is a little more pretentious than the earlier word , but still hints at a carnivorous experience!) I'm a sucker for any restaurant with any of those words in the title. I'd even patronize a restaurant called "The Beet and Brussels Sprout Grill" if any brave entrepreneur wanted to give it a try.
Second, they have a $10 special every Wednesday night, and, having perused their website very thoroughly, I've been impressed with the last few Wednesdays. No matter how hard I looked I could find no evidence of any objectionable vegetables. I think this will be a good match.
That just leaves six other nights. Surely there must be six restaurants in greater Fort Walton Beach with those key words in their titles. If I had to, I'd be willing to add the word "Diner" to the list; that might go for "Pub" also.
Yes, I think we're going to be just fine. Maybe next week, I'll tackle breakfasts.
Be well and much love,
J
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