Christmas Markets on the Elbe Postscript: Prague to Pensacola
Our morning was actually more relaxed than we thought. Our departure from the hotel was much later, so we had time to get our bags out into the hall and even to have breakfast and brush our teeth before meeting up at the Viking desk and boarding the bus with our luggage. We had made a dramatic decision – we, who had chosen to hand carry everything with us on the way to Berlin – and we decided to check our bags, taking with us only those things we didn’t want to lose – my computer, our medications, personal items.
The lines were short, and we got checked in quickly. Loved the signs posted encouraging people to behave civilly and reasonably and mentioning consequences. It worked. People were behaving.
Our flight boarded and loaded on time. We were on Air France, which we love, headed for Paris. We had a family across from us with a beautiful, happy, smiling one-year-old baby, who delighted us. We played with her until she fell asleep, exhausted and happy.
Charles de Gaulle airport, which we always used to dread, was smooth and well organized and a quick and easy transit. Our flight was called, and we passed into the boarding area and boarded the bus. And waited.
I’ve never had this happen before. They had us de-board the bus. They brought us off the bus and back into the waiting room, where we waited, receiving conflicting information from Delta, Air France and the departure counter – there is such a thing as too many apps. The pilot had noticed a problem, and a part had to be replaced.
We were re-boarded quickly, and how thankful we were we had checked our carry-on bags. From the bus, people had to go up the cold, snow-slick stairs to board the airplane; those with carry-ons with them struggled mightily.
Once on board, oh what luxury compared to the British Air flight we had taken from Miami to London Heathrow. Room! Storage! Privacy! I watched Anatomy of a Fall, a movie I have been eager to see. I am not totally sure – no I am sure that I am NOT sure – I know what happened, but the movie held me spellbound. And then we slept, for hours. Lovely!
Storage!
Arriving in Atlanta was painless, customs and immigration were painless, and we got to our gate for the flight we were afraid we were going to miss. They called the flight. We all boarded and stowed our gear. Just as the last passengers were coming aboard, an announcement. “Please gather all your belongings and de-plane.”
The pilot has had a family emergency and had to leave, a replacement is being flown in and will arrive in an hour or so, but they don’t want us sitting on the plane that extra time. So we all grab our bags and coats and deplane. Then, in about an hour, we all board again and head for Pensacola.
When we arrived, we were only a couple hours later than we had anticipated, and best of all, it was the same day. We got home safely, did some unpacking and settling into our spaces, greeted our cats, and fell into our beds, thankful for a safe, if bizarre return journey.
And Just Like That . . .
And just like that, the temperatures have dropped and I feel like a different person. I joke about being Alaska girl, unable to handle the high temperatures, but the truth is, it is the truth. I have adapted by doing everything I really need to do early in the morning and mostly staying in air-conditioned locations – my car, a restaurant, a well-cooled grocery store, my house – when the temperatures go above 80 something F.
Yesterday, we tried a food truck our son had recommended, The Brown Bagger at Alga Beer (2435 N 12th Ave Pensacola ) for smash burgers. That place was hoppin’! I had the Hoppin Jack, a burger with jack cheese and jalapenos, with a side of brussel sprouts (Brussel sprouts!) and for the first time in months, we sat at a table outside and ate in comfort. While the burger was delicious, it was too much meat for me, and I loved the brussel sprouts, which I think were deep-fried. Does that take away the nutritional virtue of eating Brussel sprouts?
Getting up in the morning to cooler temperatures just makes me happy, it makes my day start right. I was wondering if climate change was going to make the hot mornings drag on into October, or November. The breath of coolness as I do my morning steps gave me hope that the winter season is truly coming.
Seventeen Years as Intlxpatr
I don’t blog as often these days – who knew retirement would be so busy? I’ve now lost 40 pounds in retirement – did I mention I was diagnosed diabetic about ten years ago? I started with water aerobics, and when COVID hit, went bach to swimming. We learned to swim in Alaska, when we were very young. Everyone had boats, and every kid learned to swim, even though we had life jackets. The pool where we learned to swim, Evergreen Park, doesn’t even have that old glacier-river fed swimming pool anymore. Yes. It was cold. It didn’t matter. We loved swimming.
Now I am swimming three days a week, 2 miles a day. I love getting up early in the morning and hitting the pool early. I love the quiet of lap swimming and the noise of my pool buddies. It’s a great way to start the day.
I found this great Blogaversary cake honoring those early days in Alaska – won’t you have a piece? There’s another, if you don’t want to mar the beauty of this one.
Being an Alaskan has profoundly influenced who I am; it gave me a spirit of adventure and exploration. We spent a couple years in Seattle, and then moved to Germany with our lively parents, who took us everywhere during the 10 years they lived there.
We lived in Heidelberg. We had our high school proms and graduation in the Heidelberg Castle. We would jump on a train and go to Paris, or Berlin, or Amsterdam. It was an extraordinary adventure.
I met AdventureMan when my sister married in the Heidelberg Castle. We’re heading back later this year to visit some of the cities we were unable to visit during the long years of the Cold War, when there was a wall and a curtain that kept us all divided.
All those early years, they didn’t have “blogging.” It wasn’t until I got to Doha that I discovered blogs, and not until I got to Kuwait that I took the plunge and started this blog. I was terrified. The blogging scene could be rough, and people writing anonymous comments could be brutal. An expat who offended a high official could be sent home, and I didn’t want my husband to suffer for my mistake.
As it turned out, while it was important to tread carefully, blogging opened up a whole new world to me, and I met some really special people who helped me see things in new ways. Blogging changed my life. It gave me a voice, even if it was a timid one. The longer I blogged, the more confident I became – thanks to my fellow bloggers and friends who encouraged me.
So, to honor you, I do this annual virtual party, and invite all of you to enjoy these astounding cakes that people with vision create. I celebrate them, too, and their wondrous talent.
I appreciate the years of friendship and support you have given me. I thank you for reading about my travels and adventures, and for sharing my joys and woes. Thank you, thank you.
Hidden Gems in Pensacola: Update 2023
It’s July in Pensacola, hot, humid, and lazy. The beaches are crowded with vacationers, mostly from landlocked Southern states; most of the international visitors head for Miami or Tampa/St. Pete where there is a more active beach life. Pensacola is more laid back and likes it that way. The boat launch parking lots are overflowing. The bridge to the beach is at its busiest. The Blue Angels flew this weekend to thrill the hearts of thousands of viewers.
Things change slowly in Pensacola, but they DO change. One of the things that change is restaurants. In the midst of COVID, in 2020, I wrote Hidden Gems; Restaurants We Love in Pensacola. It still gets a lot of hits from beach-goers, but it needs to be updated.
These are our go-to restaurants in Pensacola, for people who love eating out. Even our dearest friends and family have other preferences, restaurants they like that we find are not for us, so there is no objectivity whatsoever in our choice of these restaurants, only that we find ourselves choosing them over and over – mostly because their food tastes really good, and that matters to us. Most of them are very very casual.
My all-time favorite, Siam Thai, is closed until later this month so the staff can “honor their ancestors”. I love the freshness of their food, as well as the tastiness of each and every dish. Some days it will be their Steak or Chicken salads, another day it will be chicken and basil or Swimming Rama. It’s all good. They expect to re-open on July 23, 2023 but check online because they are family owned and operated and not always open just because we expect them to be.
Our next very favorite is Kingfisher. Again, not fancy. Pensacolians tell us it used to be a famous sandwich shop. Now, they have some of the best, most creative food in town. I would call it a Michelin red R, good local food at reasonable prices. You can’t go wrong with their chowder or their gumbo. Their hamburger is astonishingly memorable. Their fish platters are always good, and they do a winter squash salad that I cannot resist (in season). Our son loves their Alabama White BBQ chicken (so do I). You can have sandwiches, or you can have salads, or you can have full platters; they are all good. (Edit: To our horror and grief, Kingfisher closed in October 2023. We can only hope it’s because they are negotiating another location.)
Sometimes Kingfisher gets really busy and we can’t get in. Our next choice is nearby, Nick’s Boat House. It has a great location, right on the water, with pelicans, herons, and an occasional Blue Angel flying by. Their food is standard Pensacola fare, Oyster or Shrimp Po’Boys, seafood platters, gumbo, a really nice lobster bisque, several main course salads, and a dynamite Salmon Piccata that draws me to Nick’s every time.
Also on the map above you will see Jaco’s, also good for seafood, and charcuterie, and is probably the best restaurant location in Pensacola. Outdoor seating is available and gives you time to spend with the gorgeous view. Jaco’s is a happening place. We love their salmon burgers.
I love the tuna at Fin and Fork, probably the only place in town where I eat mashed potatoes, because I shouldn’t, but the Fin and Fork mashed potatoes, served with the seared tuna, are too delicious to resist. They have really really good oysters, and a creme brulee, also irresistable. Their gumbo and bisque are exquisite.
Hard to describe, quirky, and in the heart of Old Pensacola is Juan’s Flying Burritos. It’s not Mexican, or it’s sort of a Mexican food format gone wild. If you expect Mexican, you will be disappointed. I have two great favorites, The Three Little Pigs tacos, and the Vietnamese Tacos. The Three Little Pigs are small tacos, filled with three different kinds of pork, each so delicious I cannot pick a favorite. It’s very creative, and if you order the right thing, you will love it.
Pensacola is blessed with some very fine Middle Eastern cooking, code-word Mediterranean so no one gets goosey. Zeytouna makes our hearts sing, especially the stuffed vegetables, the moussaka, the salads, oh my the grilled halloumi. Sister to a favorite restaurant we love in Baton Rouge, Al Basha, a meal at Zeytouna yields two or three more meals at home, so while it can be a little pricey for Pensacola, it dollar cost averages out to be very reasonable – as well as delicious.
When we gather as a family, it is often at Ichiban, on North Davis, because there is something for everyone. Recently, we have also started going to Kalbi Ichiban, on West Garden. While the menus are similar, Kalbi Ichiban has a younger vibe – a bar area, larger spaces, harder surfaces, and more options on the menu. Last time at Kalbi Ichiban, I had their bulgogi, which was very good, so much it served for several meals. At Ichiban, we usually have a bento box, because we love the variety.
For sheer comfort, for the best Vietnamese Pho and noodle dishes, and when I am sick, Tudo’s is our go-to. Always full of local Vietnamese residents, UWF students and faculty, and medical staff from West Florida Hospital, Tudo’s has great summer rolls (sometimes called salad rolls; the uncooked rice paper wrapped noodle and shrimp rolls served with peanut sauce) and huge bowls of noodles with barbecued chicken, pork, shrimp, egg rolls in any combination you want. I swear that if I start to feel sick, their chicken wonton soup, which we buy by the quart without the wontons, heals me almost immediately.
For quick but delicious sandwiches, and for a great choice of salads, soups, and desserts, there is our old favorite, the New Yorker Deli. On Tuesdays, they have Crayfish Etoufee’ which they also might have on Wednesday if there is any left. They always have the irresistible Double Lovin’ Spoonful chocolate cake, The Best Reuben in Town, and other thick, satisfying sandwiches and pizzas. The place is usually packed with locals and their families and all their best friends, so get there early. If the weather is nice, eat out on the deck.
On this same map above, you will also see the Publix Supermarket at Gulf Breeze and one on Cervantes in East Hill. Publix has a huge selection of take-away foods, all prepared, and also makes great sandwiches. You get to choose your own bread and toppings to go with the sandwich you order, and the ladies who make these sandwiches do a really great job.
Shoreline Deli and Joe Patti’s are both along West Main. Shoreline Deli has a great Deli which will make hot and cold sandwiches, and huge delicious salads while you wait. Waiting is the fun part – Shoreline Deli has the best olive oil in town, a huge spice selection, local honey, imported snacks and specialties, and a huge variety of chips and sweets. Joe Patti’s is a self-advertised foodie destination – and it really is. The best time to avoid the long lines waiting for fresh seafood is early in the morning, unless it is Christmas Eve Day, and there will already be a long line when the store opens. They make a lot of great specialties – Spicy Tuna Dip, seafood salad, fresh hot gumbo and chowder, really nice French, Sourdough, and Ciabatta. We all shop at Joe Patti’s!
You will also have noticed on several of these maps the Palafox Market on Palafox Street, which is open on Saturday mornings with featuring local farmers, craftspeople, old folk singers, freshly baked bread, pastries and pies, fresh coffee and homemade mustards (and other condiments) – a great place to browse on a Saturday morning, to people watch and to get a little feeling for the Pensacola Parade Culture – be sure to look up at those trees overhead to see how many beads you can see stranded there from a plethora of parades. Both Saint Michael’s Basilica and Christ Church Episcopal are often open for tours when the Market is open, giving you a chance to take a peek at these two historical Pensacola churches.
El Asador, one of our nation’s best food trucks is still semi-permanently located at the Shell Station at 7955 North Davis Highway. It’s worth the drive, and it’s worth the stand in line. The smell of the grilling chicken is intoxicating. We like to order the chicken platter, but we also love their tacos and burritos. This is some of the best Mexican food in Pensacola.
The restaurants we have told you about above are not the ones you will find written up in major American travel magazines, but they are the tried and true local places where Pensacolians eat on a daily basis. There are some great higher-end places to eat, also, and below I will share our favorites. True classics – they were on my first list of Hidden Gems, even though they are not so hidden :-).
For steaks, you can’t beat McGuires Irish Pub for a reliable great meal and great service, every time. Be prepared to wait – McGuire’s sometimes has wait times of an hour or more. A local secret – go for lunch on a day when there is a parade or a Blue Angels show, and you can get right in.
Flounders, on the beach, is also a McGuire’s restaurant and has the same kind of high-quality reliability. We go there often; we love their chowder. For a Gulf-coast restaurant, they also do a great job of searing salmon to top a Caesar salad. I love their Baja tacos and just about anything they grill.
For a great night out, for us, it is still The Grand Marlin. We’ve never had a bad meal there, nor had bad service. I go for their TGM New Orleans Shrimp, or for Cioppino or Bouillabaisse when they have it. They do everything right.
For a quiet, private celebration, or when we have special friends in town, we drive out to Fisherman’s Corner; you make a right turn just before the Theodore Baars bridge going over to Perdido Key. There is a huge apartment – or condo (?) complex going up on your right, then a Dog care salon, and then a place that looks like a bait shop, except there are cars parked everywhere and people holding drinks waiting to get in. The food is always fresh. If they haven’t been able to find it fresh, they’ll tell you when you sit down that it is not available. We have never had a bad meal here, and we have had some good wine.
If you took a look at the previous hidden gems, you will see that these last four were on that list too. A classic is a classic. These four restaurants thrive because of their focus on the entire experience. They make people feel welcome and they take pride in serving the best food.
Bon appetit!
(Suggestions and recommendations are always welcome 😊)
Jazzy BBQ, a FAO Adventure in Pensacola
We are driving up Davis, because AdventureMan wants me to see a new Halal Market he has found (you can get some wild ingredients in these specialty stores in Pensacola) when he spots Jazzy Bar-B-Q. We continued on to the market, where I found all the exotic and wonderful spices and legumes I used to find in the LuLu and Family Food Stores in Doha, but AdventureMan was still thinking about Jazzy Bar-B-Q, and so today when it came time to think about lunch, he knew just where he wanted to go, and the adventure began.
AdventureMan was a Foreign Area Officer when we were in the military, and to be that sort, you truly have to have a spirit of adventure.
We got to Jazzy Bar-B-Q around noon, but the door was closed and a lady laden with deliveries was just leaving.
“Don’t leave!” she called out. “He’ll be right back. He’s just making deliveries! He’s my son!”
We drove around the block for a better parking spot and she was just about to leave. “Here!” she said, thrusting one of the delivery sacks in our direction, “I want you to have this to nibble on while you wait.”
“Oh no, oh no,” we said, but this dear woman insisted, gave AdventureMan the container, and drove off saying she was calling her son to tell him we were there.
Ribs, chicken wings, greens and mac ‘n cheese. All very tasty! AdventureMan held off, but I had a wing and a rib while we waited.
Very soon, Phil arrived, unlocked and invited us in. In reality, he is a noted musician, and the restaurant was started by his Mama, who also does some of the cooking. For example, for tonight he has jumbo shrimp in an Alfredo sauce for his dinners. He has a lot of customers who aren’t able to get out anymore, and the food he creates is more of a ministry than a business. He cooks with love.
We were the only ones there, and as Phil fixed our meals, he told us about his family (originally from Pritchard, Alabama, then many years as New Yorkers, then to Pensacola) and his customers. It reminded me of the kind of hospitality we often received in the Middle East, listening to stories as food was created.
Phil sent us out with so much food, and a green pepper that after we eat, we are to salvage the seeds and use them in our garden. We brought it home – it was all delicious. I was especially glad he had greens, and they were amazing.
I ordered the rib plate, and I got enough ribs for a week! AdventureMan ordered the pulled pork sandwich, and got two!
(Sorry, we had already tucked in when I remembered to take a photo.)
Long story short. Jazzy Bar-B-Q is more than just food; it is also about those who prepare it and those who are eating it. We loved this experience, and we will be going back.
Adieu, Émile
As we stood outside in the back of the house, looking at the little courtyard and the terraces, my daughter-in-law said “We call this the cat crossing. We don’t know where they all come from, but there are always cats crossing.”
Soon we had one who came regularly, a cat like we have never had before. He was young and scrawny (we’ve had young, scrawny cats before) and his left eye was opaque. He showed up faithfully around the time we fed our indoor cats, looking for a meal, thus Émile. We bought separate bowls, and kept him – and his comrades – fed. Even when we travel, our housekeeper/ cat sitter would make sure he never went hungry.
The only way we knew he might like us was that when he heard our voices, he would come hang out. We were never able to get closer than 3 feet away from him, and even 3 feet made him goosey. We would thrill when he would spend a day or two up in his niche, a safe little place surrounded on all sides. Late in the day, he would wander away until meal time the next morning.
He was, like most cats, a ferocious hunter, and was proud to show off his latest squirrel or bird; what cat doesn’t love a fresh hot meal?
But one day, about two months ago, he started looking a little peaky. The last time I saw him, he was having trouble with a back leg. He disappeared.
Cats do that – outdoor cats. When they are unwell, they go somewhere. Sometimes they get better. We’ve had cats come back before, but I don’t think Emile will be back. The other cats have disappeared, too. There may be some kind of a cat virus going around, or, God forbid, someone may be poisoning them.
We would have liked to provide for Emile, to take him to a vet, get him immunized, get him checked out. We would have liked to give him affection. We would have liked for him to trust us.
And a part of me, thinking like a feral cat, imagines that none of that was of any interest to Emile. He seemed happy with the life he had, free, with a free-range menu supplemented by these strange two-legged beings who put out offerings for him on a regular basis. We sort of knew that this would be the way it ended, that he would ghost us in the end.
Being pragmatic, knowing the probability of this particular kind of ending, doesn’t make it any better. We’re still sad he is gone, and thankful for the time we had him in our lives.
Back in Kuwait
No, No don’t get excited. It’s a metaphor.
When I lived in Kuwait, I would tell my friends it was a lot like living in Alaska, and I loved the look on their faces. Then I would explain – in Alaska, people wait eagerly for good weather, and when it comes, they can’t get enough of it. We are outdoor people.
For much of the year, Alaskans are trapped inside, and have to be good at finding things to do to keep themselves from going crazy.
In Pensacola, as it was in Kuwait, the temperatures are very hot. Kuwait was mostly very dry, and had sandstorms, unlike Pensacola, but shared having a long coastline, and heat with humidity in the summers.
So now, as in Kuwait, I am up early, to get to the pool and swim my laps, so lovely and cool. If I need to grocery shop, I try to shop on the way home, so as not to have to venture out again as the day heats up. I get home, and tend to the Little Free Library while it is still in the shade. Most of the rest of the day I spend inside, except for picking up grandchildren at their camps.
It is a great time to do some quilting. I am just about to start when Ragnar, my helper, comes in to join me. (Also, AdventureMan is outside weed-eating and edging, which is of endless amusement and torment to Ragnar, who forgets he was once a feral, outdoor cat, and was lucky to survive.)
I do a couple more things to set up, hoping Ragnar will take the hint and move off to find something more interesting. He doesn’t. In the end, I have to lift him (lovingly) and place him in another room on a blanket we call Blue Mama, because Ragnar particularly loves sleeping on this blanket.
He doesn’t come back, and I spend the morning “back in Kuwait,” enjoying my confinement by working with fabrics and colors I love, patterns I would never wear but enjoy the challenge of working them into quilts.
Out of Control
It gets worse. The flooring people, after one week, still have not arrived. They are in communication with us, and their crew is on another job where they found some problems that need to be fixed before they can complete the work on that job. It is taking time.
Honestly, sometimes all you can do is laugh. We had to move to the Airbnb because with all our bedrooms being re-floored, we have no place to sleep in the house; our beds are all broken down to store in the family room. Our cats are confined to the living room, which, fortunately, they like well enough, as well as cats like changes of any kind, as you who have cats will know.
We are reasonable people. We know that if it were us whose floors were problematic, we would want the company to fix the problem and finish the job, even if it meant taking longer than planned.
As people who are spending time and money to stay in an Airbnb while NOTHING is getting done, it is frustrating and chaotic, and expensive. We were so careful putting things where we could find them, except we can’t always remember those special places where we put the things.
And, of course, the unexpected struck. A funeral, for a good friend and mentor, at which I will be a reader, and for which any appropriate dress is hidden in the far back of my living room, behind bookcases and mattresses and stacked furniture.
After scrambling through different channels, trying to get to my “dressy clothes I won’t need rack” in the way-back, I discovered that I could make do with something on my accessible rack in the living room.
One last little whine. The temperatures have suddenly risen; the temperatures are tropical and laden with moisture. It is hot. It is humid. Our comfortably cool weather has disappeared, reappeared, and then disappeared again as a cold front moves back and forth over Pensacola, shifting our temperatures from cool and dry to hot and humid.
There is a bright silver lining to this cloud of December mishaps – As part of my job in the church, I co-ordinate with a delightful young woman who did the same exact thing, cleared out four bedrooms to have wooden floors put in, but she and her husband did it with children! They ran into the same problem, staying in an Airbnb, the job was delayed, and they ended up staying in a total of three Airbnb’s because the ones they had booked were booked again and there was no room for extensions due to the flooring company mishaps.
“It’s a drag,” she told me, “but you will be so happy with those beautiful floors.”
She is right. She made me laugh. She was exactly the right person in the right place to help me put perspective on all this and to laugh. Her situation was so much worse, and she survived.
The cats have adjusted well to their lives confined to one room in the house. The beta male, Uhtred, who has not realized that he is now bigger (and smarter) than the alpha male, Ragnar, has found a safe place where Ragnar can’t get him and has also figured out how to open the folding door, even with its slider to prevent being opened. He is smart, and persistent, and loves to open doors. so far, we have him contained.
The right dress will show up for the funeral. It’s not about me, anyway. There is a pin I need to wear, and I know exactly where it is, in a box at the bottom of a heap of boxes I can’t access. The hamster brain keeps running on its hamster wheel, and I have to take a breath and realize that most of what I worry about will resolve itself without my getting wrapped up in anxiety.
Limbo is never a fun place to be. We want this to be over, we want to put all our furniture back, to sleep in our own house, to have our things put away in logical places where we can find them when we need them. We trust this company and want to work with them; we believe they are doing the best that they can in troubled times. We are in a good place; no immediate vacation plans, no children, not a lot on our schedule, and our Airbnb has been very gracious about extensions. I’ve given up thinking I’ll be able to have this all done, everything put away, for Christmas.
We are not comfortable being out of control. We are experiencing the discomfort of rolling with the unknown. On some level, I believe it to be a reminder that mostly control is an illusion, and that we are often oblivious to the tumult and chaos all around us, disruption can blindside us at any time. I know there is a lesson in humility involved, and I suspect another lesson in letting go and going with the flow. Like Uhtred, I persist in trying to free myself, I keep pulling at that door.
Friday Night Special: Mushroom Soup Forestiere
Who knew, this late in life, that AdventureMan would develop this new talent? This week he had a bug in his brain; he had loved making the steak with mushroom sauce last Saturday night and now he wanted to make a very French/German version of mushroom soup, sort of a Forestiere, so he researched recipes, watched a few YouTube videos and created a brandy-laced soup that totally knocked my socks off.
At Fresh Market, his favorite market in Pensacola, he found the special mushrooms, and a crusty loaf of French bread, a mild goat cheese and a Country Pate by Les Trois Petits Couchons, established 1975 in Brooklyn, N.Y.
He was so busy all those years managing, commanding, strategizing, traveling, and I did all the cooking. I did fine – I have a few good recipes, and we moved so often that I could just use them again at the next post. Most of what I did was survival cooking, i.e. I had an obligation to get a meal on the table three times a day, and it had to be something my husband and son would eat. I did fine, but it wasn’t exquisite, and there was only dessert when we were having guests.
AdventureMan takes cooking to a whole ‘nother level. He loves taking his time, scouting out the special ingredients, even growing the herbs to garnish the platters. For him, this is a lot of fun. For me, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.
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