If winter means dangerously cold temperatures, high level of snowfall, and dire driving conditions , then my area of the world is experiencing winter in every sense of the word.
If winter, indeed, can also be described in how much wood one has burned so far this wood burning season, then the fact that more wood has been burned (three bin fulls in fact) than any other winter since the commencement of wood burning began in terms of our home heating arrangement.
If winter can be described as a time to stay indoors and hunker down with homemade meals with baked bread and red wine, then that means we have had much in the terms of experiencing the season.
With that in mind, one can perhaps readily understand why we ventured out on a warmish (-9 Celsius) Sunday afternoon to partake of a Chinese Buffet we had heard about in a neighbouring town about a half hour's drive from home. The first outing for no reason we had taken for about a month.
We drove down main street of this small town and spied the restaurant almost immediately, as it was the only building where there were three cars parked. The verification of our correctness was the sign on the outside that simply read "Buddy's" with a 7up symbol beside it.
There was a group of five ladies 'of a certain age' sitting at a long table watching our entrance as we knocked snow off our boots, took off our frost covered glasses, and looked for a place to be seated.
Under these watchful eyes we chose an arborite covered table (we had the choice of sitting at one with decoupaged pictures of horses on a pine board) by the windows and informed the server that we would be taking part in the buffet. The plates for the buffet were plastic, the utensils were 'real', meaning they were metal, and the coffee was served in a cup with a spoon already sitting in it.
The food was at best 'OK'. Considering we got there about 5 minutes after the buffet had started it seemed to be cold, over cooked, and over fried. Not surprisingly, there was quite a bit of food to be had as all during my time there I saw no one go back for seconds.
The service was good as the coffee and ice water we asked for arrived even before we had time to go to the buffet table to fill our plates. Although the only difference between the iced water and the coffee we were served was that the water was colder than the coffee, and the coffee was a bit browner.
As there was no ambiance music to help muffle the usual sounds one finds in restaurants such as chewing, coughing, clinking and scraping of utensils, coffee slurping, and conversation, we were able to experience the eating out sounds to their fullest.
After the excitement of our arrival leveled off, the conversation of the ladies at the only other occupied table returned to the mundane. Topics such as snow shoveling, home care foods and the debate which followed over their value and tastiness.
The discussion of whether the local hospital would reopen in spite of the mold took some minutes to consider and almost sparked an argument. We could feel the tension rise as one interrupted the statement of another. For just a smack of a moment there was a sense that not all the chilliness was coming from the outside.
We sat and ate the food that was good and left that which wasn't. As we were approaching the end of our meal, one of the attendees at the other table burst out into a series of at least 30 continuous sneezes. This outburst, of course, brought the topic of conversation around to allergies. The topic of allergies, naturally therefore, brought the conversation to the fact that one of the other ladies accidentally found out that her sewer was leaking 'stuff' (her word) into her dirt basement. She described the 'stuff' that was coming out around the edges of the pipe, and how she had to call the repairman, and how nice he was to come fix the pipe from leaking that 'stuff' the very same day and how he didn't even charge her because he was working for the Town that day.
My husband went to pay the bill. As I downed the last of the coffee and wiped my lips with a paper serviette from the dispenser, I thought of how much I appreciate having as many serviettes as I want whenever I eat out.
As we drove home across the snowy countryside through our summer camping area, my husband leaned over and put his hand on my knee and said, "Thanks for coming out with me today."
If winter, indeed, can also be described in how much wood one has burned so far this wood burning season, then the fact that more wood has been burned (three bin fulls in fact) than any other winter since the commencement of wood burning began in terms of our home heating arrangement.
If winter can be described as a time to stay indoors and hunker down with homemade meals with baked bread and red wine, then that means we have had much in the terms of experiencing the season.
With that in mind, one can perhaps readily understand why we ventured out on a warmish (-9 Celsius) Sunday afternoon to partake of a Chinese Buffet we had heard about in a neighbouring town about a half hour's drive from home. The first outing for no reason we had taken for about a month.
We drove down main street of this small town and spied the restaurant almost immediately, as it was the only building where there were three cars parked. The verification of our correctness was the sign on the outside that simply read "Buddy's" with a 7up symbol beside it.
There was a group of five ladies 'of a certain age' sitting at a long table watching our entrance as we knocked snow off our boots, took off our frost covered glasses, and looked for a place to be seated.
Under these watchful eyes we chose an arborite covered table (we had the choice of sitting at one with decoupaged pictures of horses on a pine board) by the windows and informed the server that we would be taking part in the buffet. The plates for the buffet were plastic, the utensils were 'real', meaning they were metal, and the coffee was served in a cup with a spoon already sitting in it.
The food was at best 'OK'. Considering we got there about 5 minutes after the buffet had started it seemed to be cold, over cooked, and over fried. Not surprisingly, there was quite a bit of food to be had as all during my time there I saw no one go back for seconds.
The service was good as the coffee and ice water we asked for arrived even before we had time to go to the buffet table to fill our plates. Although the only difference between the iced water and the coffee we were served was that the water was colder than the coffee, and the coffee was a bit browner.
As there was no ambiance music to help muffle the usual sounds one finds in restaurants such as chewing, coughing, clinking and scraping of utensils, coffee slurping, and conversation, we were able to experience the eating out sounds to their fullest.
After the excitement of our arrival leveled off, the conversation of the ladies at the only other occupied table returned to the mundane. Topics such as snow shoveling, home care foods and the debate which followed over their value and tastiness.
The discussion of whether the local hospital would reopen in spite of the mold took some minutes to consider and almost sparked an argument. We could feel the tension rise as one interrupted the statement of another. For just a smack of a moment there was a sense that not all the chilliness was coming from the outside.
We sat and ate the food that was good and left that which wasn't. As we were approaching the end of our meal, one of the attendees at the other table burst out into a series of at least 30 continuous sneezes. This outburst, of course, brought the topic of conversation around to allergies. The topic of allergies, naturally therefore, brought the conversation to the fact that one of the other ladies accidentally found out that her sewer was leaking 'stuff' (her word) into her dirt basement. She described the 'stuff' that was coming out around the edges of the pipe, and how she had to call the repairman, and how nice he was to come fix the pipe from leaking that 'stuff' the very same day and how he didn't even charge her because he was working for the Town that day.
My husband went to pay the bill. As I downed the last of the coffee and wiped my lips with a paper serviette from the dispenser, I thought of how much I appreciate having as many serviettes as I want whenever I eat out.
As we drove home across the snowy countryside through our summer camping area, my husband leaned over and put his hand on my knee and said, "Thanks for coming out with me today."
The 'stuff ' of a great meal is more than the food or the place.
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