So,yesterday we went to a foodie movie. Put the top down on Lucy and made the fabulous 40 minute drive along the Columbia River coulee to Wenatchee. (Lucy, by the way, is what Dar named our little convertible VW......to put to rest the fears that all you perverts had out there that we were driving around with my senior citizen wife bare chested.) But I digress.....shocker! Anyway we went to Costco first and while there, picked up the perfect complement to precede going to a foodie movie....an enormous slice of Costco cheese pizza for $2.00! Split it and it is, by far, the tastiest amount of food a buck will buy you anyplace in the universe. And....it is great pizza! No, not the thin crust gourmet stuff with unpronounceable ingredients or even the run of the mill restaurant faire we got in Italy this summer, but just a great blob of cheesey goodness on a delicious crust. Nice! Thus, we were satiated and ready for the movie, which I have to add, we watched all by ourselves in a theater with over 250 seats. Tuesday afternoon...Eastern Washington.....school in session, obviously nobody but us old retired farts are going to be watching an artsy movie with no nudity, explosions or bloodshed. It was great. We conversed throughout the movie, Dar freely texted her friend in England and my intestinal gas issues were of no concern. Back to the movie. Titled The 100 Foot Journey, it was about an Indian young man blessed with great culinary skills making his way in the French cuisine world and the pursuit of Michelin stars.....and a lovely sous chef. The plot was no mind bender - kind of like an Estrogen channel (my name for the Lifetime Channel) movie on TV that Dar watches....but produced about 200 times better. It was just plain well done and then when the credits roll at the end and you see Steven Spielberg and Oprah Winfreys names...well, Duh, no wonder! Some of the movie scenes of the haute cuisine restaurants and the food preparation were unreal. The food was treated like fine sculpture and the use of delicate spices in unusual situations was a bit unnerving for a culinary peasant like me that thinks a little Lawrys seasoned salt in the omelette is pretty hot (or haute) stuff. Thus, inspired for fine dining, we joined some friends at a remarkable intimate little Italian place plopped down in the small city sprawl of used car lots, carpet stores and motels that run alongside Wenatchee Avenue. It was no Michelin one star joint but then again, it had real tablecloths, no plastic utensils and the dipping bread was exceptional.....all things that say This might be GOOD! It was. Beet and arugula salad, some nice entrees, dim lighting and good conversation.....hey, what more do you want? I know, I know.....everybody says you need a bottle of wine but I need to remain true to my barbarian reputation and claim I can generate a witty response without the benefit of a pretentious wine lubricating my choice of oenophile descriptors. (Ouch, that was a NASTY phrase....sorry, I get carried away, you know!) So then, we hop back in the convertible for the trip back home along the river with the top down as it is getting dark. How romantic! However, convertible comfortability is based on one factor....temperature. Eighty degrees is nice, 71 degrees equals Honey, whered you put that sweatshirt? We transitioned into the sweatshirts. By the time we hit the lakeshore portion of the drive at the end, we were considering pulling over and putting the top up. Nevertheless, it was a nice ending to a day that had started with a little unpleasantness on the tennis court between an un-named to protect the innocent mixed doubles team.....but that is a story for another time. Good night.
Posted on: Sat, 20 Sep 2014 00:45:11 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015