Claui is away at the beach and Justin ate with us last night. We were having open-faced lamb burgers on ciabatta, covered with a very garlicky tzatziki sauce and we were talking about what a foodie place Asheville has become -- new restaurants popping up all the time with excellent food of every ethnicity.
And, as always, we launched into the reasons we almost never go out to eat at night: Asheville's a good forty-five minutes away; driving back if you've had some wine could be a problem; we eat really well at home and the places we might be interested in trying for something different are pretty expensive . . .
Finally Justin kinda summed it up. "I'm happy to eat at home no matter what. But, if Obama called up and said, 'Hey, Justin, this is Barack. Michelle and I are in town and would like to take you and Claui to dinner. On us.' I'd be like 'Well, okay. What's the dress code? Do I have to wear a suit?' and he'd be, 'No, no, just casual. I was thinking of 12 Bones . . .' and I'd be, 'You know, Barack, I like 12 Bones a lot but could we up the ante a little?" For the record, Mr. President (just in case you happen to read this post,) 12 Bones would suit me fine. Or, hey, I could fix supper here. The garden's doing great right now -- I think Michelle would like it, It's four wheel drive up to the house but we could meet you guys down at the barn. Dress for the country -- there are several friendly dogs -- like us, all yellow dog Democrats at heart..
