Eighteen Years

I like children, if they're properly cooked. - W.C. Fields

Eighteen years. I was sous chef at a lovely suburban restaurant called DACC’s (I have mentioned it before, but the name was an acronym for Dan and Alice Welch, John “Crash” Cracchiola and Caren Ashkar– the owners. (Alice was out of the picture by that time.) I was having a hoot as a cook. It may have been the first time I was really happy in a job. Ever.

When I left the Law, I had no idea of how my career would change. I had no idea I would finally marry. Even then kids were not part of the equation. Then Trish got pregnant. We lost that one, but the idea of being parents had planted its seed in our brains. In 1998, we found out Trish was pregnant again. This time, it took.

 

A Tale of Two Dinners

It was the best of Dinners, it was the worst of Dinners – apologies to Mr. Dickens.

Today’s Buffalo News carried two stories about dining. The first, in the way I read the paper,  was about the new Coach of my Bills entertaining some our best players from the Glory Years, at a downtown Steakhouse. I can only imagine the discussion.
The other was a review of a long standing Southtowns Beef on Weck institution. It was a gathering of friends and family. I was at the latter. As much as I would have liked to have listened in at the former, the latter provided a much more satisfying dining experience.
I’d take it anytime.