eating my words

So I was in Durham, NC the other day scouting locations for an upcoming story on Amy Tonrquist, the super-talented chef/owner of Watts Grocery (a hip new restaurant near Duke's east campus).  I left Birmingham on a 6am flight (which meant rollin’ outta the rack shortly after 4am) with little more than a granola bar and flavored water in my tummy.  By lunchtime I was ready to chow down. 

My tour guides, Zavi and Babs, whisked me away to Parker and Otis, a gourmet grocery store, restaurant, wine store, and all round cool place to hang and be seen.  I don’t know who Parker is, but Otis is a regal looking pug who shows up in photos throughout the store.  Located in a jazzed up downtown warehouse, Parker and Otis has only been open a few months, but appears to already have quite a following.  I reckon if I lived in Durham, I’d spend a lot of time here too.

I've had just about enough of this fickle March weather -- it snowed in Birmingham two days ago and today it was sunny and 65.  What gives?  I really shouldn't complain, though, because today was one of those days where the weather's so beautiful you actually feel cool (like, Fonzie cool).  You know what I mean?  All I know is that when I was in college and a day like today rolled around, you could kiss class good-bye.  It's been cold and rainy for the last few weeks, so maybe I'm just high on vitamin D.

Anyway, it was just too nice to stay inside, so I met my wife and youngest daughter for lunch at our favorite outdoor eatery (in case you're wondering -- or in the event my boss is reading this -- there were no thoughts of blowing off work.  I promise.)  As we sat outside soaking up the sun and savoring every single minute of the humidity-free breeze, my wife and I talked about cleaning up the back yard, sweeping off the patio, and inviting a few friends over for a casual get-together this weekend.  Nothing fancy -- a few nibbles, some wine, fire up the outdoor speakers.  You get the picture.

Thomas Jefferson was onto something back in the day when he envisioned the hills of Virginia planted with vines whose fruit would yield top-notch wines.  Unfortunately, Jefferson moved on to the great Rotunda in the sky before his dream was realized; however, based on the current state of winemaking in Virginia, I reckon he’d be pretty darn proud.

I’m in the plane back to Birmingham (you Carlin fans out there will appreciate his bit about getting “in” the plane and letting the daredevils get “on”) thinking about all the cool things I experienced the day before--one of my most enjoyable days in “wine country” anywhere in the world.