It has been said that I am a snob about certain things. And, I suppose that it is true to a certain degree. I believe life is too short for shitty coffee, booze, and food. I also believe that there is much to be said about the nuance of experience in certain places. I'm not a complete snob- I will bend on somethings- well, except coffee. I won't drink shitty coffee, if there is no good coffee to be had I won't drink it at all. Whatever, we all have our quirks. Anyway, since I posted about my obsession with hole-in-the-wall bars, I thought I would take a minute to post about food joints as well.
I spent ten years waiting tables. For some, this may be a bit shocking, but I LOVED it. I loved interacting with people- going to the table, gauging the group, putting on whatever personality I thought fit and working it. In the little town I grew up in, there were only a few job options for 15-16 year olds, and most involved restaurants. For a lot of that period in my life, I worked at one chain restaurant- and we were like one crazy family. We hustled our asses off and had a pretty good time doing it for the most part. We were tight-knit, and there were a lot of us. When your shift was over you sat down in the smoking section, drank coffee and hung out. After closing we would all drive down the street to the other chain restaurant in town and hang out there. Ahh, small town amusement... Pots of coffee and packs of cigarettes.
One summer, I left the comfort of the chain restaurant and went to work at a truck stop about 15 miles out of town. This was a MUCH different environment, in so many ways. For one, the extent of the ALL employees at the truck stop would have rivaled the number of servers we ran on a slow afternoon at my old job. There were never more than two servers on at a time, there was no busser, no cashier, no hostess. There was a cook, a dishwasher and one or two servers. That was it. Oh, and did I mention that it was family owned and operated? I was one of two employees not from the same gene pool...(this later turned out to be the curse that sealed my fate there, but that's beside the point.)
People came in and sat at the nearest available table, clean or not, and you hustled from the moment you walked in the door. There was nothing fancy about this place, it was CHEAP home cooking at it's finest. Pearl, who was in her 90's at the time, came in at 4am every morning and baked all the pies from scratch. We made the coleslaw in 5 gallon buckets. The local beef farmer delivered the meet fresh every day, and Friday night all you can eat perch was the most popular occasion for 20 miles. These people had not reinvented the wheel, they had just been filling a need for decades and had built a HUGE loyal customer base.
So what, your asking... So, to this day, I remember that place, and that feeling when ya walked in the door. And I find myself seeking out that type of experience wherever I go. I like beautifully prepared, fresh, fancy, food as much as the next person- well, maybe more in some cases. But if I walk into an establishment and immediately feel out of place it matters little what the food is like. The wine list can be exceptional, the food elegant and delicious, but if the vibe ain't there, well... it kind of ruins it for me. In fact, I have realized that it sometimes the food has NOTHING to do with it at all...I love dumpy hole in the walls that have one badass bartender and one superior server. The bartender is know for one drink, which she makes better than anyone else in the world, and the server tells you what to order because she knows what's good that night.
There is a place that a few of my friends and I frequent in town- they have been loyal patrons for decades, and I have only recently stepped into the fold. The first time I went I was taken aback a bit by the 70's decor. It's dark and dingy in there, I would venture to say the original wall paper still hangs on the walls. As you walk in, all you see is a big horse shoe shaped bar and a bartender. Saddling up to the bar, I asked what was good and Faye, the bartender insisted I hadn't lived until I had had her cosmo. My friends eagerly agreed with Faye, and so I obliged and ordered what I considered to be a fru-fru drink. I could NOT have been more wrong. What Faye produced was the STRONGEST fru-fru drink I had ever had- problem was, she made that damned thing so well, I was not completely aware of how strong it was. And let me tell ya, they go down so smooth, it doesn't take long to get yourself in trouble.
After a cosmo or three, we are seated. Our server is a sweet woman- in her late 40's maybe, she has long hair pulled back in a pony tail and a very friendly face. From the conversation I take it that she's waited at this fine establishment for possibly as many years as I have been alive. I like her, she is spunky and quick witted, and she knows the menu backwards and forwards, and she will tell you EXACTLY what she thinks of everything on it. This particular place is known for their barbque, especially their ribs. The people I am with ALWAYS come for the ribs, they crave them. My snobbery is immediately apparent. I am not sold on the ribs. I am not a big fan of meat on the bone, especially the kind you have to really gnaw at- if it doesn't fall off, it's a no go. She kneels down beside me and gives me her honest opinion about this and other menu items and then composes an order for me.
Truth be told, if I had come on another day, with other people, had a different server and a different bartender, I don't think I would have ever given the place a second thought. But the people made ALL the difference. And, it is true, NO ONE makes a cosmo like Faye- no one. I like the Cheers atmosphere, walk in the door and everyone says hullo. And I like the dark, dingy, ambiance. I like that so long as Dawn is serving I don't have to make up my mind, she will bring me whatever is good on that particular night. I like that they have secret menu items like 'special potatoes' which are not really on the menu, you have to ask for them. I like that they serve the salad in the same plastic bowls we used at the truck stop, and that the bathroom is always inexplicably cold or hot, depending on the season. I like that I could go in on any given night and sit at the bar with a bunch of people my parent's age and have a far better time than in some stupid, trendy bar down the street from my house. So, yeah. Maybe I am a snob about certain things, and I like that too.
