Ernie is getting his hot days. And hot nights. Last night we sat in my parents’ backyard–no fog rolled in, no wind picked up, no sweaters were needed. I picked up sandwiches, noodle salads, and spring rolls from Jasmine Deli, my favorite Vietnamese restaurant. I have no pictures for you. Camera battery went dead. Too bad. The grilled pork on baguette rolls with cilantro, chiles, shredded carrot, and shredded green papaya were as pretty as can be.
Later on I headed to Cafe Barbette to meet a friend. As she predicted, I had “just a glass of wine” (she seems to find this high-larious). She decided to have wine too, and so ordered the same thing I did. The server left and she turned to me in a panic, “that wasn’t a $20 glass of wine you ordered, was it?”
I kind of love that she thought I’d be ordering $20 glasses of wine. It sounds very fabulous, in a way. But internets, I’m a freelance writer. No $20 glasses of anything for me. $20 bottles, sure. $20 glasses, no.
So we sat and sipped and soaked up the energy that emanates from Upper Midwesterners when they have long, warm summer nights at their disposal. It is joyous. It is contagious. It is palpable. I love it.
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