Whadayahav?...Whadayahav?
Well, it being a very substantial dessert, GMC’s fruit cake is still putting up a fight at our home but we are slowly whittling it down. I must confess that the longer it sits the better it gets. We keep several tablespoons of bourbon sealed in the Tupperware container with it. When you open the container now your olfactory organ is treated to a delightful fruity aroma more potent than it was more than a week ago. The stronger tinge of bourbon while eating the cake is most satisfying.
Yesterday, my daughter attended her cousin’s spend the night birthday party about 2 hours south of here. To save time in retrieving her, I met my sister today a little over half way at the locally (and regionally) famous Varsity Restaurant in Atlanta for lunch.
It’s been some time since I’ve had the pleasure of dining at the Varsity. The old joke among my friends was that you need to periodically eat at “the greasy V” (as we call it) to recalibrate your taste buds back to zero.
The Varsity used to serve their take out food in bags that proudly proclaimed “No Food Over 12 Hours Old.” The restaurant (also billed as “the world’s largest drive-in” for those preferring a curbside epicurean delight) is the quintessential definition of “fast food.”
It has a large sprawling dining area that can seat hundreds of people, all emanating from long central ordering counter. You walk up to any of about a dozen ordering stations, wait in line for a bit and then be on your mark when it’s time to place your order.
The Varsity cashiers and cooks aren’t geared for hesitancy and reflection. You best know what you want before your turn arrives. Being a Varsity novice, my daughter couldn’t really decide what she wanted. So she ended up going last instead of first.
“Whatdaya have,” was offered to my sister and I as more of a command than a question. We ordered while my daughter vacillated, which only gave her an additional 30 seconds. She blurted out something unsure of what she was even getting. The cashier grunted.
I had a Number One. That’s two hot dogs covered in their special spicy pulverized chili with a Coke. But the highlight of the meal was the onion rings. Leaving a tiny puddle of grease the bottom of the small paper bowl containing them, these onion rings are the finest you’ll have anywhere.
All three of us had the rings. Ordinarily my daughter detests onions but she scarfed these down without so much as leaving me an expected leftover to enjoy.
It’s a good thing I don’t eat like this every week but there’s nothing like the greasy V.
Yesterday, my daughter attended her cousin’s spend the night birthday party about 2 hours south of here. To save time in retrieving her, I met my sister today a little over half way at the locally (and regionally) famous Varsity Restaurant in Atlanta for lunch.
It’s been some time since I’ve had the pleasure of dining at the Varsity. The old joke among my friends was that you need to periodically eat at “the greasy V” (as we call it) to recalibrate your taste buds back to zero.
The Varsity used to serve their take out food in bags that proudly proclaimed “No Food Over 12 Hours Old.” The restaurant (also billed as “the world’s largest drive-in” for those preferring a curbside epicurean delight) is the quintessential definition of “fast food.”
It has a large sprawling dining area that can seat hundreds of people, all emanating from long central ordering counter. You walk up to any of about a dozen ordering stations, wait in line for a bit and then be on your mark when it’s time to place your order.
The Varsity cashiers and cooks aren’t geared for hesitancy and reflection. You best know what you want before your turn arrives. Being a Varsity novice, my daughter couldn’t really decide what she wanted. So she ended up going last instead of first.
“Whatdaya have,” was offered to my sister and I as more of a command than a question. We ordered while my daughter vacillated, which only gave her an additional 30 seconds. She blurted out something unsure of what she was even getting. The cashier grunted.
I had a Number One. That’s two hot dogs covered in their special spicy pulverized chili with a Coke. But the highlight of the meal was the onion rings. Leaving a tiny puddle of grease the bottom of the small paper bowl containing them, these onion rings are the finest you’ll have anywhere.
All three of us had the rings. Ordinarily my daughter detests onions but she scarfed these down without so much as leaving me an expected leftover to enjoy.
It’s a good thing I don’t eat like this every week but there’s nothing like the greasy V.
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