Why there was no email yesterday

Dear Feastlings,
I’ll just say this: I feel lucky about that vast majority of our regular guests. I truly do. I’ll also say this: Never, under any circumstances, pandemic or not, open a restaurant. I didn’t get an email out yesterday because of the deluge of phone calls and emails from those who had the new, very disagreeable deadline sprung on them at the eleventh hour. And I throw myself on the mercy of the court- fingers crossed that there’s mercy to be meted out. If this were a normal year, we’d be happily accepting orders, including the odd special order, after the penultimate Wednesday, and saying we’d have it ready whenever you’d like to swing by and pick it up.
This, however, is no normal year, as you’re no doubt acutely aware, some more so than others. And so, after answering some very gracious people (thank you,) some supremely sad and disappointed people (I truly am sorry; we all are) a few people in denial (if you simply emailed an order after 8:00 pm, Wednesday the 18th and no one confirmed it with you, I’m sorry to say you will not be receiving it,) and a few who’ve endangered my regard for humanity with open hostility toward me and/or the rest of the crew (please- being hostile will decidedly not increase the likelihood of your getting an order that we already don’t have food for,) and after scaring up another 14 turkeys from multiple purveyors and grocery stores, we are, simply put, maxed out. We’re hoping we can handle what we’ve got scheduled, and that we receive all the takeout boxes held up by supply line difficulties, and and that everything else coalesces into a Thanksgiving week that you and we can all be thankful for.
So now I’ll say this: if you’ve scheduled a pickup time with us, PLEASE do your level best to get here at that scheduled time. It’s bad enough that Covid has given us a thousand supply line headaches and that toilet paper and meat are disappearing from shelves again, but we also have all hands on deck here next Wednesday, and each pair of hands will be extracting your Thanksgiving meal from the depths of our walk-ins and going over it with you, and if you show up when there are already the next eight people requiring sets of hands to help them, you may be waiting significantly longer than you’d hoped to. Punctuality is no specialty of mine, but this situation calls for it in spades.
Meanwhile, you’ve got a good three days to enjoy the Learning Curve lecture for which we’ve prepared one last meal in the series

A Feast for the Senses – When Music and Movement Collide

and I got an email from someone who said he’d had no interest in mackerel, nor in Brussels sprouts, but that we’d been converted on both fronts after being talked into the meal. So if you’re in the mood to be pleasantly surprised- and who among us isn’t due for some unexpected pleasantness?- give us a buzz at 326-9363 and treat yourself. Or, failing that, treat yourself to this week’s wine tasting tomorrow

Thanksgiving reds

or just a little something from the regular menu.

Whatever you do, think sweet thoughts when you call or email; we’re all fragile already over here, and we really want to do right by you next Wednesday, and every day until then.

Your friends at Feast

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