That got your attention huh? No, we're not selling the place. The title refers to a phenomena we've witnessed over the years.
We live in a well-touristed place and inevitably some visitors fall in love with the area and decide it would be a perfect place to move. During their house search, escrow, moving in and remodeling we see them all the time. We are their home away from their new home. They sing our praises effusively, they love us. Then when they are comfortably ensconced in their new palace we never (or rarely) see them again.
We've wondered about this and have a couple theories. One is you do things on vacation you never do when you are at home and moving can be extended vacation. I know I do more cultural activities on our trips to the Bay Area in a few days than I did in a few months when I actually lived there. So there's that, but people still go out out eat so it can't be that entirely.
The other is we're not snobbish enough. We're egalitarian and offer a menu that by design appeals to a broad spectrum and is pretty affordable. After people get comfortable with the area and realize they can go to other restaurants where the food is more expensive (and often less good)and service is poor, they conclude we can't be as good as they once thought we were, because our pricing is low and we're friendly and efficient.
A friend and I have been discussing the pretension of the high-end restaurant and I confess to a certain amount of jealousy over the amount of business some places do. I'd love to be booked well into the next year and have people falling over themselves to get in the door. At least a certain part of me would. The greater part would be pretty disgusted with myself. Which is not to self-denigrate. What we do, we do well. Certainly better than anyone in this area. It would be nice to be compensated appropriately however.
Enough about that. The mechanical problems have proceeded apace. The Micros issue seems resolved but we'd like them give us a break on the machine for all the struggles we've had to go through. Now one of the refrigerators and the freezer are needing attention, I have to track down knobs for the stoves, our floor leaked onto a merchant below, the grass in the backyard is past my waist, we need a busser and a new prep cook and we're rocketing into summer. Things are just a little out of control.
So, I keep reading, trying to ignore it. The Jimtown Store Cookbook was another I wanted to like. Did this book ever see an editor? It just seemed to fail in so many ways. The authors present menus for seasonal occasions completely out of order so there is no sense of progression as you make your way through the book. They try to put forth the tone of simple people living in a bounteous place but instead come across as people who had money who were able to buy themselves into their dream of the good life. Their connection with their place seems sooo tenuous and ultimately tedious.
So I started two others simultaneously. A Gracious Plenty which is a compilation of spiral-bound community cookbooks recipes from the South with learned commentary on Southern Culture. Great looking recipes. I got too hungry so I had to start The Unprejudiced Palate by Angelo Pelligrini. Although on the surface many might say Pelligrini's message to America is being realized today (the book was published in 1948) I think he's probably just as disgusted/bemused by the current worship of food as he was then by the neglectful wastefulness of his adopted country.
At any rate reading him is getting me off my ass to get out there and attack the yard. So...