Location: Callahan’s
I was sitting tonight, writing, when my table was most welcomely crashed by Melinda and Tom. Tom spent an hour or so at a different table with some potential coworkers while I was left to entertain Melinda. Fortunately she’s easily amused.
Tom joined us and after more alcohol was sent on the liver trip we decided it was time to order food. The past two days I had sat next to people eating the jalapeño beer cheese soup. One of those did so at my recommendation. It’s a good soup. Tonight I ordered it for myself, but there was a thought slipping through my brain. A way to make it better. I asked for a dash of Angustoura Bitters.
They weren’t sure how much to add, so they brought me the bottle. I had no idea how much to add either, so I hoisted the pup and gave it a few shakes.
Sweet holey moley it was good. I’ve always liked that soup, but this time it was, dare I say, exquisite. No one (except Tom and Melinda, who I forced to taste my new flavor sensation) has ever known the pure bliss that is “Jer’s Callahan’s Bitter Cheese Soup”. You could build a restaurant chain on the stuff. I couldn’t, but you could.
Hmmm…. GlobeTrekker TV show we saw about Prague featured beer cheese as typical Czech pub-grub. Can pL or Marianna verify?
Meanwhile, Pat’s reading up on Czech. And we might be also doing Norwegian. Seems there’s a Norwegian exchange student at Highland High School whose host-family arrangements somehow fell through, and we just got an email from the school parent organization desperately seeking a host family.
Dear, dear, am I on the verge of keeping up the family tradition of taking in foreign exchange orphans? (BTW, has anyone invited Alexei to join this blog?)
If you called it “Bitter Beer Cheese Soup”, you might get some free air time on what passes for american beer commercials these days.
I think I screwed up your page…hehehehehe!
I didn’t mean to…But now that I know! Hehehehehe!
I have to say, it was with some regret I crashed the table. Tom was already there, and I had shopped as long as I could. My feet were killing, and I had the strangest feeling Jerry would be there (and I saw the dirty sock packed Miata in parked in front). I miss my bar buddy and there was little else to do but the crashing. I do have to say, the Angustoura Bitters was inspired. It was pretty stinkin’ good with out, but with… the stuff of dream. Assuming you dream about beer, cheese and the company of people you know, and people you don’t.
I was introduced to other bar people Jer knows. It was neat, but he waited until they were leaving to say hey. I accused him of introducing me, just so they would know the “laptop guy” had friends. We both laughed a lot. It was a good moment.
Don’t forget the pants story Jer. Its a good one.
I have forgotten the pants story.
Dear, dear … Pants messes up your blog, and then you can’t remember a pants story. I’d watch out to make sure the squirrels haven’t sabotaged your wardrobe — it wouldn’t do to have something bad happen as you put on your pants.
I just checked, and I’m wearing pants. I think if I had forgotten them earlier Rose would have mentioned something, and it not her then Leah “no condoms on the shakers” would definitely had busted my ass. She doesn’t let me get away with anything.
So today, at least, I generated no new pants stories.
But given that the squirrel terror status is elevated (what is it now? yellow? orange?), you probably should inspect your pants before putting them on, in case there has been some sabotage while you weren’t looking.
Pants? Heresy I say, thread-bare shorts are how I remember old man Seeger.
Have you converted religion? Perhaps to pantholicism?
Well, when I say “pants” I don’t mean actual long ones. I think the shorts I’m wearing right now may be the threadbarest ever. I’m not going to be able to wear them much longer.