Change the World!
Went to a great Italian Steakhouse in Syracuse at the tale end of the week.
First off, Sinatra was playing in the background.
My appetizer was longboat peppers...olive oil and garlic and bread that was dipped in another bowl of olive oil with spices.
Perfect.
The waitress headed over and introduced herself. It was easy to pick up on the fact that she was of Italian heritage. She was also very young. She spoke of her Mom and Dad and her brothers and sisters.
We started talking about the menu and I explained that there wasn't a single thing on the menu that I didn't want to eat! She mentioned that pasta was on the menu at her house, as she grew up, every Sunday and Wednesday.
I knew the feeling.
"When were you born?" I asked.
"1996," she responded.
"Wow."
The girl spoke of her plans. My dinner companion was from Texas and the girl was planning a trip to his neck of the woods for a music and arts festival. Her eyes were wild with the excitement of all of it. She was going to school, she was studying hard, she was looking forward to the fun. She'd find what she was looking for, but she wanted to see a lot of the world.
We ordered dinner:
6 ounce filet, 8 ounce pork chop and a piece of chicken marsala served over a bed of angel hair pasta in a garlic-themed sauce.
The chef's special.
Too much food.
"That's what it was like growing up in my house," she said. "Mom is right from Sicily. We always had way too much to eat, but we tried!"
It was a lot like that around my childhood home as well.
The young girl shared her grand ambitions with us. She spoke of making a difference out there somehow.
"Ah to be 19 again," I said to my dinner companion as she walked away.
"Yeah," he said. "As time goes by, you sorta forget about all the big plans and just remember the simple times, right?"
Sinatra was booming 'All of Nothing At All' over the loudspeakers.
I cut a big hunk of the pepper and twirled it with the pasta around my fork. If I closed my eyes the scents and sounds would transport me back to when I was just 19 years old.
All...
...or Nothing At All.
"Full of piss and vinegar," my buddy said. "World beats it out of you after awhile."
Frank sang.
We got quiet for a moment.
A piece of filet, a pepper, a taste of the chicken.
"Good kid. Dreaming big," he said. "Huge meals with her family. A closeness with her mom and dad and her brothers and sisters."
"She's already changed the world a little," I said.
The young waitress came by the table to laugh at the fact that we were indeed working our way through the big meal.
"That's what I love about this place," she said. "It reminds me of being in my own kitchen."
Amen.
We left a huge tip for her.
We did it to help her fund her trip to find what she wanted.
Neither of us had the heart to tell her that a lot of what she needed was right there in the kitchen where she grew up.
And no.
I couldn't finish all of it...
...but I got pretty damn close!
First off, Sinatra was playing in the background.
My appetizer was longboat peppers...olive oil and garlic and bread that was dipped in another bowl of olive oil with spices.
Perfect.
The waitress headed over and introduced herself. It was easy to pick up on the fact that she was of Italian heritage. She was also very young. She spoke of her Mom and Dad and her brothers and sisters.
We started talking about the menu and I explained that there wasn't a single thing on the menu that I didn't want to eat! She mentioned that pasta was on the menu at her house, as she grew up, every Sunday and Wednesday.
I knew the feeling.
"When were you born?" I asked.
"1996," she responded.
"Wow."
The girl spoke of her plans. My dinner companion was from Texas and the girl was planning a trip to his neck of the woods for a music and arts festival. Her eyes were wild with the excitement of all of it. She was going to school, she was studying hard, she was looking forward to the fun. She'd find what she was looking for, but she wanted to see a lot of the world.
We ordered dinner:
6 ounce filet, 8 ounce pork chop and a piece of chicken marsala served over a bed of angel hair pasta in a garlic-themed sauce.
The chef's special.
Too much food.
"That's what it was like growing up in my house," she said. "Mom is right from Sicily. We always had way too much to eat, but we tried!"
It was a lot like that around my childhood home as well.
The young girl shared her grand ambitions with us. She spoke of making a difference out there somehow.
"Ah to be 19 again," I said to my dinner companion as she walked away.
"Yeah," he said. "As time goes by, you sorta forget about all the big plans and just remember the simple times, right?"
Sinatra was booming 'All of Nothing At All' over the loudspeakers.
I cut a big hunk of the pepper and twirled it with the pasta around my fork. If I closed my eyes the scents and sounds would transport me back to when I was just 19 years old.
All...
...or Nothing At All.
"Full of piss and vinegar," my buddy said. "World beats it out of you after awhile."
Frank sang.
We got quiet for a moment.
A piece of filet, a pepper, a taste of the chicken.
"Good kid. Dreaming big," he said. "Huge meals with her family. A closeness with her mom and dad and her brothers and sisters."
"She's already changed the world a little," I said.
The young waitress came by the table to laugh at the fact that we were indeed working our way through the big meal.
"That's what I love about this place," she said. "It reminds me of being in my own kitchen."
Amen.
We left a huge tip for her.
We did it to help her fund her trip to find what she wanted.
Neither of us had the heart to tell her that a lot of what she needed was right there in the kitchen where she grew up.
And no.
I couldn't finish all of it...
...but I got pretty damn close!
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