Yesterday afternoon we drove down to Miami International Airport to meet the eldest son of the Alsatian family whose farm I worked on in the summer of 1976. A doctor, Théo had already left the farm by then, leaving behind his brother Dany, but he stopped by for special occasions.
I drove him and his Finnish partner Marja down Calle Ocho, through Brickell, and then to Coral Way – that stunning, non-Alsatian lineup of banyans – and into Coral Gables. We took a walk through the Biltmore, had hot chocolate at Books & Books, and then looked for a restaurant for dinner. The first two – a new Peruvian place and a Middle Eastern restaurant – were too loud, so we ended up at Graziano’s, where no music played. After 47 years, we needed a place that was conducive to conversation.
