I got working papers the summer when I was fourteen. My childhood friend Earl’s family owned a local restaurant and they were kind enough to hire me even though I had never worked. The restaurant didn’t serve alcohol which is part of why I could work there. In my home state of PA, you had to be at least eighteen to wait tables in a place with a liquor license (at least then; not sure about now).
I wasn’t the most attractive hire. My parents wanted me to learn about responsibility and “the value of a dollar.” But Mom also didn’t want me working more than ten or twelve hours per week. Additionally I had an active schedule between summer dance workshops and performances and cheerleading practices, not to mention chasing boys.
I added ground beef to my version, but it would also be great with pulled chicken or chorizo. It was easy to make and I had meals for days. If one were inclined to make this lower fat or to hide vegetables inside, that would be simple to pull off.
It has been a while since I posted about food. Two recent meals reminded me that I was overdue.
One restaurant, Market Table, was so good that I had to go back for seconds.
First, I dined there with Adrienne. Situated in the charming West Village, Market Table is a cozy nine-year old restaurant that I had somehow overlooked all this time. And it was simply through the luck of OpenTable that I picked it at all.
My friend and I had some serious catching up to do so I didn’t take any of my own pics. Fortunately Instagram came to the rescue.