We were in Coral Gables yesterday and so went to lunch at Bulla, our favorite restaurant in the city. It's not just the delicious food - we usually come home with four or five orders of gazpacho - but the friendly atmosphere. Yesterday streams of small Spanish flags hung from the ceilings, and large screen TV occupied the bar. As we were finishing our meal a busboy appeared. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said, "but can I take some of these plates and give you more space?" A few minutes later he approached the neighboring table, with the same apology.
We had family in town so we took them yesterday evening to Shooters, apparently Ft. Lauderdale's go-to place for Thanksgiving dinner. Toward the end of the meal, someone commented on how tired the staff looked. Much more surprising was how friendly and gracious they were.
When you have trouble swallowing you view food differently. You look at a steaming plate of pasta and don't think "That looks good" but rather "That looks like a lot of work." On the plus side, when it's all gone, instead of regret you feel a sense of accomplishment.
If you think restaurant portions are large now, you should try eating out after throat surgery. For once, the waiter who asks “Are you still working on that?” is using the right verb.
After our dinner with the Serbian waiter we walked down the street to Ann’s Florist and Coffee Bar. I was thirsty for a beer, beer having recently joined pastis as one of the few alcohols that didn’t burn my healing throat. Walking past the counter of pastries I spotted some delicious pieces of blueberry cobbler.
We got a seat outside on the terrace. The waiter, kneeling to address us at eye level, went through the long list of beers, which included craft beers as well as national brands.
“I’ll have the blueberry cobbler,” I told him.
“Would you like that on draft or in a bottle?” he asked.