Antonia L wrote:I absolutely devoured my wedge.
....like a lioness devouring a baby springbuck!
Laura, who is turning 18 tomorrow, wanted to eat at Coals for lunch today. It was a spectacularly beautiful day when our foursome, Laura, her boyfriend, Donna and I stepped inside the dining room. We were greeted by Danielle who said we could sit anywhere with the caveat “but not a six top – just use common sense ,”she said. I grinned at this. I liked her already. She thought I had common sense!
We selected a four top just as close to the open kitchen as possible. I told Donna “I'm getting the wedge salad.” I said it as if I were challenging her to object. She said oooookay why? I said because Antonia was here recently and she had the wedge salad and she absolutely devoured it! Donna said, “Oh God are you going to make some kind of scene?” “Naw, I'm just going to have the wedge salad,” I assured her. She didn't look assured.
Coals now has a selection of tap beers to choose from. Danielle mentioned that there was one that was not on the menu yet. Of course I had to know what it was. I couldn't possibly make a selection without knowing all my options. Danielle thought about it and said it's the Brooklyn – ale? I said “Do you mean the EIPA?” Just then Madeline walked by. I spoke to her, well actually might have startled her a little. She stopped to say hi and Danielle asked her about the Brooklyn. Mark spoke up and said it was the pils. Oh well. I ordered the Ommegang Witte and made note of the New Holland Poet stout for later. Like most places, I think the distributors must convince them to offer mostly big beers on tap. I guess this policy must work but there wasn't a session strength bitter ale in the group. When it comes to Coals this really isn't very important to me. I've been coming here since before they had any tap beer. Coals is our favorite pizza by a long shot and I'd drink water if that was all that was available. Yes, water!
When I ordered the Wedge to precede my Bardstown, Danielle made an approving noise and said it was her favorite. I have never even considered ordering a wedge salad before. Iceberg lettuce seems rather boring to me and to have a whole wedge of it? My best friend Chris who eats at high end restaurants frequently (on someone else's tab) always says, “I love a wedge salad.” That, coupled with Antonia's descriptive terminology (I read “....like a lioness devours a baby spring buck”) had me half mad with anticipation. Good thing Danielle brought my Belgian-style ale quickly so I had something to play with while I waited.
When the wedge arrived in all its glory I noticed that no one else had ordered a salad or appetizer so I would have an audience. I contemplated this beast turning my head side to side like a small dog wondering how to bite a large water buffalo. I was quite certain that grasping the wedge by each side like a rack of ribs would not earn me high marks from Donna or Laura. It might get me a few points from Laura's boyfriend though. Juvenile boys are easily amused. I decided it would be best to utilize my hard won utensil skills known as the European or Continental technique. Grasping the fork in my left hand with the tines pointed down and the knife in my right hand, I butchered that baby. Stab with the fork, holding it down while I sawed off a manageable section. Skewer the bite-size portion and with a smooth rotation of the left wrist, thrust it directly into my mouth. Yep, this method works for most everything except soup.
When Donna and I arrived in England back before the war, The Gulf War that is, we only knew how to eat like Americans. If something needed to be cut, we would place our fork down and pick up our knife to do the cutting. We would then lower the knife and replace it with the fork. We didn't realize what an inefficient method of eating this was until our British friends wondered out loud why it was Americans had to put down their fork to cut their food (imagine this with a cultured British accent to get the full effect). I wondered out loud why it was the Brits couldn't seem to put down their colonies and why they ever learned to use a knife in the first place since most of their diet consisted of Spam (imagine this in an obnoxious American accent to get the full effect). In the end I had to concede that they were superior at welding a knife and a fork. I still don't know why the toilets in half of England's pubs are nothing more than a hole in the floor. Don't ever pick up a British gentleman's shoes just after he's returned from the pub.
In any case, that's neither here nor there and what is important is that I ate that wedge salad with me knife and fork and it was jolly good. That's probably how Antonia ate it as well.
The rest of the meal went swimmingly. We all took home pizza but before we did, we stopped at the Comfy Cow for some ice cream. I told Donna about the hullabaloo that occurred when the Comfy Cow mascot decided to pass out leaflets in the Home Made Pie Kitchen across the street. I asked the the girl behind the counter where the mascot was today. She looked around in an exaggerated manner as if actually looking for the beast and said that he must be elsewhere....and you guys say I'm cheeky! Anyway, stopping at the Comfy Cow turned out to be a great move. The ice cream was delicious, the old renovated house was charming and the toilet was not a hole in the floor.
On the way home, I asked Laura if she wanted a cupcake from Jamie's 14K Cupcakes. She said she was full but asked why I had suggested that place. I told her that I had heard that the Comfy Cow could sometimes be found trying to graze Jamie's cupcake bouquets. Yeah I know, she didn't think it very funny either. Cheers!
Last edited by Shane Campbell on Wed Mar 28, 2012 9:40 am, edited 1 time in total.
