Oh great. Just great. The first day of the new year and I'm already late. I truly hope this is not a portent of things to come. I knew I was in trouble the minute I opened my peepers and saw sunshine instead of stars. I can't remember the last time I awoke to daylight. And I was home by nine last night!
Joel, Judy and I have our roots in Southern California. Lawry's Prime Rib Restaurant in Beverly Hills is a fine-dining institution dating back to the 1930s, famous for prime rib and creamed spinach brought to the table in rolling silver carts. Last night, as befitted the occasion, Joel recreated the menu perfectly with meat so tender and succulent I didn't need a knife. Judy's garlicky Caesar salad was a piquant counterpoint. They even remembered the horseradish in whipped cream. Gosh darn, it was good. I didn't even miss the rolling cart. Equally enjoyable was the company, which included Judy's daughter Shari and her dad, Lee. I can't imagine a nicer way to usher in the new year than with old friends.
If I hurry now, the goats and chickens won't know I got such a late start and I can maintain my shaky reputation.
Happy New Year!