THEN, when we got on up to the Smokehouse, I regretted that lunch, any of which I could cook at home, because the scent of smoke was so enticing and I’d wanted just ONE good barbecue sandwich on our trip South. Maybe next time.
So, we decided we’d have our dinner WAY up the road, at a place we’d seen on our route of travel---there used to be one like it in our hometown, and we hadn’t tasted their fondly-remembered cuisine in quite some time. We opted to dine al fresco, and the fountain added to the ambience of the evening.
The tiny birds-in-residence added their song to the event, and they joined us in our dinner on the patio.
The whole atmosphere was wonderful, the food just as remembered, the same-though-far-away-in-time-and-place service-with-a-smile. We both associate the place with memories of old times of our youth, and the evening air, the paving still damp from the cooling shower, and the music enticed us to dance, for we were the only diners on the patio. It WAS difficult, I must say, NOT to step around the floor to “Twist and Shout,” and “Old Time Rock ‘n’ Roll,” but we restrained ourselves, dedicating our time to such wonderful food while it was still hot.
I had a wonderful grilled chicken cutlet, with a lettuce, tomato and bacon salad, pain ordinaire, and pommes frites.
Chris opted for a saucisson supreme, with its accompaniments of fromage Americaine and a lovely poivron et tomates sauce:
Yep---that's a big old foot-long Chili-Cheese DAWG.
His side dish of choice was a familiar crisp dish of tiny pommes croquettes, with their savory topping of fromage and more of the that luscious sauce.