I’m convinced that the world would be a far happier place if we could always start off with a clean plate and new silverware.
The other night a friend and I went out for dinner at an extraordinary restaurant…Chuck-A-Rama. While some may turn up their noses, or proclaim that this restaurant is not the best when it comes to culinary fare, let me rally to its defense.
Cornbread. Where in the world can you get warm cornbread every single day and not have to make it yourself? Fresh, buttered, and drenched in lemon juice?
The smells of two-dozen different things coursed about in the air. Steam wafted up from the freshly-baked rolls, slathered in cinnamon honey butter, the roasted pork ribs drenched in barbecue sauce, and salted fries, just waiting for a proverbial swim in ruby-red ketchup.
Ah, the deliciousness of variety
As my friend and I finished one plate of food and went back for another, we each picked up a sparklingly new plate—clean and fresh, glinting our reflections back at us…new silverware also gleamed under the incandescent lights. When we arrived back at our table a few minutes later, our old plates had been magicked away, as if taken care of by Hogwart’s many house-elves, and a clean table awaited us.
We proceeded through our second plates and decided to go for desert—getting new plates to fill to content with whatever we may: berry medley drizzled over vanilla ice cream and Oreo crumbles, raspberry cobbler, and caramel cinnamon pull-aparts.
As we returned to our table, we immediately noticed that the old plates had been whisked away by some mysteriously silent and unseen power. We sat to an empty table and enjoyed our desert amidst thought-provoking conversation.
Sometime later, when we felt we’d had enough and it was time to leave, we did so.
There was no cleanup, no washing, nothing but the fresh night’s air awaiting us as we made our way to our vehicles and each drove home.
Ah, the thrill of a new plate and a clean table—what a great thing to have.
Image swiped from: http://blogs.citypages.com/