Finally! I tend to over-think these Ten Things, or get hung up on interpretation. For some reason, the weekly Ten Things brings out my blogger perfectionism and I’ve been so busy (and/or distracted) that it usually seems just that much out of reach. From the preview, I already know that next week — 10 Favorite Horror Movies — will be a bust; The Birds pretty much did it for me in the ’60s, The Exorcist in ’70s. I’m not good with horror (except the occasional Vincent Price or Lon Cheney flick), but I’m pretty good with FOOD!
1. Grilled Cheese Sandwich at unknown (and various) roadside diners. When I was little, and while dad climbed the ladder, my family moved a lot. We moved at least once a year from the time I was born until I was in third grade — and sometimes more. Movers would usually come and do the heavy lifting, but the bodies of a growing family (five kids by the time of the last two moves) needed to be moved from Point A to Point B by another method. My parents always drove — there were also vehicles to move — and those moves were sometimes 1,000 miles, so it was easiest to do the driving at night. Grilled Cheese Sandwiches (my standard order at a restaurant ’til I was in my teens) accompanied by a cold glass of Whole Milk at the counter of a diner during those moves was pretty much the extent of "eating out" during my childhood years — so memorable, so toasty, and so gooey. I also loved listening to late-night AM radio (the only kind there was), going through big cities, and watching the night sky for airport beacons during those drives.
2. Cheerios with honey and milk a la Grandpa.
3. Cantonese at the Melody Supper Club for my 8th birthday with Mom & Dad. This was the first time — maybe the last time — I ever went out for dinner with only my parents. I had numerous Shirley Temples at the bar and was quite full by the time dinner was served. I was impressed with the whole thing — the covered dishes on stands, the amazing (and alarming) quantity food, the presentation, the lights and drinks and music — Oh! The glamour of it all to a second grader (who didn’t get out much)!
4. Popcorn and Kool-aid (usually Lime) summertime dinner under the wee maple trees (shade!) in the boulevard at Schaefer Street with Mom and the kids.
5.a. My first date with DH at the Lake Lytle Restaurant — the 25th anniversary of which was last week — during which we split an entree that I don’t even remember (probably chicken), and after which, with a full moon overhead, we took a moonlit walk on the beach during low tide. I was wearing cowboy boots — I’m not sure why I had cowboy boots — which didn’t work real well in soft sand.
5.b. Also, every dinner we had at The Riverhouse in Pacific City, Oregon; also while we were dating. We went there often — it was pretty close to home and we had lots of friends there. The Riverhouse served me my last bowl of French Onion Soup, which I could not eat because of nausea due to pregnancy; in fact, I couldn’t smell it and didn’t even want to look at it — and haven’t since. Too bad. I always loved it!
5.c. And, also, every Sunday morning breakfast at the Coastway Restaurant in Tillamook. We went there every Sunday morning when I was pregnant. We’d sit there and eat, read, talk — hopeful and dreamy about the future and our family. After Katie was born, we took her a few times, too.
6. Ling cod, broccoli, and brown rice. The dinner that DH prepared every single time he invited me over for dinner while we were dating.
7.a. Family dinners at my grandparents’. Now, when I was young, I was sometimes referred to as "Elephant Ears," so… On those rare occasions when Grandma wasn’t in a rush to clear the table, when family dinners lingered through dessert and coffee, when my siblings and cousins had long left the table, when the adults got to talking about all manner of things past, present and future… ah, that was heaven!
7.b. Celebratory family meals, in general. I was never one to dread a family get-together. Let there be merriment! Holidays, birthdays, anniversaries… they’re all good.
8. Dinner with DH at a WONDERFUL restaurant near Sea View, Washington, the name of which escapes me now — which is terrible because we ate there twice — but it may have had something to do with oysters. It was fine, fine, fine, which is not really DH’s thing, but it is mine and he indulges me now and then by accompanying me and refraining from licking the butter off of his knife. I can’t tell you what I ate, only that it was fine, fine, fine — and there were fresh, warm rolls with dill, and my glass was always full.
9. Wonderful meals prepared and shared with my sisters. I think we’re all closet foodies to some degree — even if the individual focus is narrow. I’m not sure where that comes from. Looking forward to a little of that kind of sharing again next month.
10. Every meal I’ve ever shared with friends. Just a couple of weeks ago, I skipped knitting out to have dinner with a friend and former neighbor. It had been a while, so we sat down and blah-blah-blahed — the waitress came over three times before we even cracked the menu, and then there was more blah-blah-blah. I think I had a salad, though I don’t really remember because most of my memorable meals are such because of the people or circumstances.