The restaurant is by invitation only. While this sounds exclusive, don’t overdress. They want you to call in advance because they need to know how much prime rib to cook and because too many biker gangs were showing up and getting into drunken brawls.
The prime rib is very large and tender, rubbed with a thick coating of black pepper. The menu still says the meat is hand cut by John, but this seems improbable since he has moved back to California. You get horseradish sauce without asking.
The restaurant décor is rustic, as befits a fish camp on Lake Norfork. The overworked owner/waitress had a new tattoo on her arm.
Paul and I ate there during the week. We killed two bottles of Merlot at dinner and brought home about half of the huge chunks of tender prime rib that arrived on our plates.
We were looking forward to the blackberry cobbler, but the boomers have been complaining about getting seeds stuck in their dentures so they switched over to cherry cobbler.
The lake is at record levels with all the spring rainfall. It’s been a tough spring with days of downpour and one tornado that carved a record 120 mile swath of devastation between Clinton and Gasville.
I’ve found a really good blog that adds a lot to the racial dialog occurring all over America. It’s called “Stuff White People Like” and includes extensive in depth analysis of this often misunderstood minority. Subjects include old t-shirts, San Francisco, Barrack Obama, whole foods, "The Wire" on TV, St. Patrick’s Day, yoga, expensive sandwiches, hybrid cars, microbreweries, having gay friends and foreign educations (Europe is good, but Tibet trumps everything).
We drove down to Conway yesterday to help Carolyn and Jason get their house ready to sell. I got to drive a big Toro lawn mower. It was pleasing to see the Barrack Obama stickers on the back of Jason's SUV. His friend Chris had one too. We had expensive sandwiches for lunch.
No comments:
Post a Comment