I’m writing this email on Tuesday. It’s New Menu Day, and while I historically get an email out right away on the first Tuesday of the month in hopes of enticing you into a visit, today (yesterday to you) is a crazy one. There was a menu tasting for the staff, one where we talk about how the dishes are prepared, and what dishes can accommodate what dietary restrictions, how we’ll plate the dishes and so on. We had a four-person media crew here as well, watching us do the tasting, and shooting the breeze with about the pandemic, and sourcing food, and menu changes and whatnot. We had a new employee hit the ground running and another one prepare to do so, and Katherine’s been going full tilt in making the transition as Megan readies herself for takeoff, but has graciously agreed to cover another Sunday for Mary Ann, who’ll be playing catch-up the minute she gets back from grandmothering up a storm on her vacation.
So here I am, in the future, where you’re reading this in your present, this email that, had I planned it better, I might have written it further in the past. I do have a fondness for the pluperfect subjunctive.
Anyhow, had I gotten this email written in time, had the meeting not happened or the film crew not been here or had I not been interrupted a dozen times with matters of Ferragosto (yes, we finally have a menu)
and the wine tasting that sets the stage for Ferragosto
and our next donation run to Sister Jose Women’s Center,
about which there’s more information here:
Meanwhile, here’s a belated link to the nearly-new August menu, and a mention of the fact that despite the heatwave and supply-line difficulties that had previously made it difficult to put them on the menu, we’re crossing our fingers and hoping that we can maintain a steady supply of squash blossoms at least through the month. So strike, as they say, while the iron is hot.