I’ll admit that maybe I spend TOO much time in my head playing out worst case scenarios, versions of the world in which things go badly because you did not meticulously plan. Planning is, or least sometimes can be, the opposite of Disaster. And so when I heard that we were having our last Charleston meal at Hominy Grill — a fixture known for its fried green tomatoes and sausage gravy — on the SECOND TO LAST WEEKEND BEFORE IT CLOSES FOREVER — naturally, I panicked, assumed that we would never get a table and would have to stand outside of the restaurant in the heat with no water and or bathroom and our life-long friendships would be ruined and we would starve to death and never see our husbands or children ever again. AND SO, I insisted that we get there at LEAST 30 minutes before it opened, at which point I did a drop and roll out of the moving car to the hostess’s stand. The courtyard was already crowded with other like minded people who approach eating at Restaurants like tactical warfare. I shouted my name triumphantly at her, panicked when Blaine and Carrie took over two minutes to return from parking the car, then hovered by the hostess with a racing heart, assuming she would call my name and I would not hear it.
Fried Green Tomatoes with House Ranch
Pork belly black eyed Pea cakes with tomato cumin sauce and poached eggs
HOMEMADE OATMEAL CREME PIES
WHO’S CRAZY NOW?!
(ME / IT’S STILL ME / IT WAS ME THE WHOLE TIME)