Dedicated to George

I need to clarify something about my love for food.  I know previous entries were about fancy dining and all.  But in reality, it’s really not about fancy food; it’s about GOOD food.  It has always been; it will always be.  I would rather eat great food on paper plates (or wax paper, for this story) rather than average food on fine china.

Years ago I was introduced to the Gopher Bar in St. Paul.  Calling it a “dive” would have been more than generous.  The crooked tables, the ancient cash register, “place mats” that are actually sheets of wax paper.  In fact, the second time I went there, the chair I was sitting on was actually broken.  The back was missing and the metal spokes stuck upward like shiny swords, but hey, at least I was sitting on a chair (and as long as I didn’t fall backwards…).

I was told they had the best Coney dogs in town.  They were not kidding.  These delectable little dogs, hot fries, and icy coke made it all worthwhile.  Come hungry and come with cash as they don’t take checks or credit cards.  Oh!  And if you are hungry, don’t come on Fridays unless you place your entire order at one time.

Tom’s nephews came to visit last month and on that particular Friday we decided to do what good aunts and uncles do:  Take our kids and visiting nephews to a greasy bar where the server was wearing a ripped shirt that said things I really can’t repeat.  We placed our order and when our food arrived, we devoured it like the carnivores we truly are.  When we decided to go for round two, we were told by the server-with-the-ripped-shirt that “reorders are not allowed on Fridays, but since George is not here, it should be okay.”  You’re kidding, right?

Well, Tom and I went there last week and we were “greeted” by (who else?) George.  Now, I would like to think that back in the day, George was friendly, vibrant and full of Coney-dog enthusiasm.  Or maybe not.  After a growl (which I took as a greeting), George took our order.  The cuisine soon came out and we were dining on those delectables again.  As we’re eating, I happened to glance down at the menu and noticed their soup and salads were seasonal.  Huh?  Which season?  Just when I thought I’ve seen/heard it all at the Gopher Bar, I overheard George tell the server that they had reservations for 15 that night.