[title type="h5"]Tuesday, January 21, 2014.[/title]
Two consecutive cold nights gave way to another hard freeze tonight, as the hard winter continues. Today I searched for my overcoat, an article of apparel I've worn only three or four times since I bought it in 2006. It could be more useless: I don't know when I will ever wear out the five cashmire scarves that I've received as gifts over the last thirty years. I think I'll send them to our soldiers in Afghanistan.
An assortment of projects kept me at the radio station until the end of rush hour. My appetite showed no creativity--just a hunger. I wound up at Impastato's, whose food I have been thinking about for the past few weeks.
Joe Impastato had a few things on his mind. He was trying to figure out how to handle the recent increase in requests for gluten-free dishes. I can understand his puzzlement. A person with celiac disease might find a restaurant whose specialty is pasta a challenge. Since they make their own pasta at Impastato's--that's why it's so good--they'd have to come up with entirely new formulas to make gluten-free pasta. Given that even whole-wheat flour makes pasta much less appealing than standard semolina flour does, it would take a good bit of research to come up with a wheatless version.
It seems to me that if you need a special diet requiring special recipes, you ought to know what that diet is, and order dishes that fit it instead of expecting the restaurant to reinvent everything they make for you. Really, how can they know? But this is another reason why I'm glad I'm not in the restaurant business.
Impastato's was very busy, and I sat at the bar. Instead of the five-course dinner that starts heading my way every time I walk in, I asked for a plate of fettuccine alfredo (that's really what I came for), followed by black drum with mushrooms and artichokes and a romaine salad. That hit the spot. Then back into the chill, which had by that point become windy, too.
At home, the conundrum on a night like this is trying to entice the dog Susie to come inside. She has a little spot under the house, but I can't imagine why she would turn down an invitation to curl up on a warm pillow in the living room. Dogs, dogs, dogs.
Written by Tom Fitzmorris January 28, 2014 13:10 in
