We did tonight, anyway. I had to take some notes and start work on a
short piece I have to write on a painting show in the city this
afternoon, and we had an art benefit for an ailing friend this evening
in another gallery. In between the two, D and I killed some time
picking up blood oranges and gorgonzola and good oatmael at Central
Market. Next we quaffed some wine at Cafe Express (merlot for me and
a kooky Aussie shiraz for D) -- admittedly not a wine destination, but
it's usually okay for the likes of us. And it was so tonight.

We decided to eat at the Stonleigh P. For ya'll who live where it's
colder than here, and for ya'll who live in Old Europe and Oz and
other such foreign lands, the Stonleigh P is a bar and grill across
Maple Ave. from the Stonleigh Hotel. The P was once the Stoneleigh
Pharmacy, but part of the neon sign burned out ages ago. Basically
the "harmacy" left the Pharmacy, and we were left with a "P" about the
time it was converted from a drug store to an eatery-***-bar back when
Nixon was on everybody's mind and Vietnam wasn't a cuisine option but
a quagmire in the making. They have a seriously cool juke box and
good burgers. http://www.stoneleighp.com/

D is doing South Beach with good success, so she had a cup of Xotillo
soup (sans rice) and a spinach salad with a delicious Creole mustard
vinaigrette. I went for the trusty Rancho Delux burger: 1/2 lb of
ground beef on a ciabatta roll with onion, tomato and a fine chipotle
mayonnaise.

It was fine. Really fine. And the waitress was cute, too. I was
full enough when we left for the gallery that I didn't snack on any of
the munchies there.


modom

"Dallas is a rich man with a death wish in his eyes."
-- Jimmie Dale Gilmore