Diary: Ox Lot 9, Lovely Day, Bad Penny Pleasure Makers.

Written by Tom Fitzmorris January 17, 2018 13:01 in

DiningDiarySquare-150x150 Sunday, January 14, 2018. Taking Friends To Sunday Brunch. Mary Ann has friends in from out of town. On her mind is what she thinks of as an imbalance. Her friend and her husband always seem to pick up the check when they get together for dinner. It starts as a question--a common one on my radio show. If you know that the last few dinners have been paid for by one side of your table, you feel a need to grab it this time. The problem is that some people plan on paying for the whole dinner no matter what. They don't know the score so far, so they don't care what it is anyway. If you always pay, you need not worry about whether it's your turn. On the other hand, if you keep careful track of whose turn it is, you are likely to leave with the thought that it might have been your turn, and you have it wrong. The basic truth on this matter is this: People who are out with friends usually take pleasure in covering the whole bill. They don't care whose turn it is. If they don't pay, they are deprived of the pleasure of paying. And believe it, that pleasure is for real. In this case, MA's friend's husband seems to believe in the philosophy above. MA was sure he would at least try to pay, even though he always has in the past. MA handed this dilemma off to me, knowing that I'm one of those guys who goes for the check before it even comes to the table. I enjoy that pleasure, myself. So what about the guy who always pays? What does he miss by not being allowed to pay? Not much, because, frankly, he doesn't really care who gets the check, as long as nobody at the table is miffed by having to pay. [caption id="attachment_52898" align="alignnone" width="480"] Hand-cut frites at Ox-Lot 9.[/caption] At least, that is how I feel about the matter. I'll bring this up on the radio today and we'll see where people stand. It will be more interesting than the other topic du jour: the snow, sleet, freezing temperatures in the teens, and "when will all this come to an end? All this took place at Ox Lot Nine, one of MA's favorite restaurants. It was the perfect place for brunch. Our friends found the spot as charming as MA does. We were able to get a table far enough away from the front door that we wouldn't be run over by banks of frosty air rolling in from Boston Street. Just inside the door was a guy-and-girl duet calling itself Bad Penny Pleasure Makers. They played a delightful collection of hard-to index must. It sounded to my ears like the music of the 1920s and before, played on guitar and washboard. They seemed to have a taste for songs whose verses (the part of the song that most listeners never hear. If they do, the listeners applaud when the better-known chorus clicks in.) I started with a quintet of beignets with a blueberry compote. I passed it around the table and still managed to get three beignets. MA's friends both ordered eggs Sardou--a classic for brunch. MA and I both ordered steak. I have had steak on my mind for a couple of weeks, but it wasn't exactly the kind of steak I had in mind. MA also went this way, but made a better deal than I did. Hers was called "the Brunch Bowl," some tender filet tips and a nice seasoning, topped with an assortment of garnishes and vegetables. What came my way appeared to be a cross-cut whole steak, encompassing several cuts. None of these were chewable. I swapped mine with MA's. The latter was nearly perfect. Mine. . .well, I sent it back. The kitchen was quick to swap the dish out a platter of poutine: fries, roast beef a la poor boy, and cheese. It was the perfect item for starting over again, and we walked out happy. All restaurants miss a mark now and then, but if they're quick to recify the complaint, they get full rebate from me. By this time the weather had become actually pleasant. But we had a lot more winter coming out way. Ox Lot 9. Covington: 428 E Boston St . 985-400-5663.