After our family reunion last weekend, we found a box of field potatoes on our porch, courtesy of my lower shore sister. Kevin put them to good use.
He sliced them thin, peels on, and made scalloped potatoes to serve with that night's meat special.
Looking good. Except I never got a picture of the plate with the potatoes actually on it...anyway, thanks GG! They were delicious!
We served a surprising number of BT Dogs out in the dining room at lunch time last week. I suggested that we should have a "famous faces" photo montage of our guests enjoying their splurge of a hot dog. Good sense prevailed however, and we decided we should settle for "famous hands", so as not to get anyone in any trouble with their spouses...or their cardiologists. The Dog is good. They'll be back this week
Two specials from the weekend include the rockfish Friday night, featuring a mound of lump crab meat and a puddle of lemon butter sauce. Below that is the SBF Veal pot roast, also from Friday night. That was a plate of major comfort.
It was exceedingly busy Saturday night - we had quite a wait going at 6:30. It was challenging, and I was not able to spend time with my "friends" as I prefer to do. Instead, I was busy ferrying drinks to guests waiting in the foyer, giving direction to the bustling bus help and socializing with checking on Kevin's brother and sister-in-law, who were eating at the kitchen table. They sure got a good picture of the back of the house on a hopping Saturday night - every time Kevin hollered "PICK UP!!!", they felt like they should jump off their stools and grab the plates at the ready!
It went fairly well, as far as a really hectic night can. One weird incident - a woman called to ask what the wait was at 7:15. When I told her "45 minutes to an hour", she asked could she be put on the wait list right then. I replied in the positive, and told her that her table would be ready at 8PM to 8:15. Okay, that's done. Except at 7:30 someone tells me that the D***y party is here and ready to be seated. Yes, it's that same woman, expecting to sit down upon arrival. I (patiently) explain to her that when she called at 7:15, there was at least a 45 minute wait. The table wouldn't be ready before 8:00. She nodded, okay, headed toward the bar, then next thing I know, they had turned around and said they were leaving, they didn't want to wait. I made sure she understood what I had told her, and then I had to wonder what they had expected when they arrived so early...and why they had wasted my time.
I am constantly amazed at how hard our crew works on a night like that. The kitchen gets ticket after ticket, yet only moments from the time the order goes in, there is bread on the table and soon there is food. The bus girls take direction from everyone, constantly, and are in a steady run all night long keeping bread flowing, water pouring, as well as the unending work of busing tables and resetting them. They carry trays loaded with plates and glasses and silverware to drop off and break down at the dish table. Meanwhile, the servers are hustling to get orders in, drinks served, questions answered, all while seeming to have not a care in the world, and certainly not like they have six or seven other tables, all needing something sometime soon. The bartender has a bar full of diners, plus tickets spitting out of the printer for drinks demanded by the dining room. She needs ice, she needs glasses, she needs more wine. Yet I watch as her guests also get their food in a timely fashion, served by the tray runner, who serves all the food all night long, while at the same time making sure drinks are available, coffee is made and silverware is polished. It's a good four hours of non-stop hustling. When it's over, it's with a sigh of relief that Saturday is complete and the week is finished once more.
And now it is Tuesday once more. We're not starting out so well, as Brittany has already called out for the day. And it's only Tuesday.
At least we know the food will be good!
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