Sunday, February 15, 2009

The Hawthornes' Interesting Trip Home.

Mr. Hawthorne and I headed back home to the beach this morning.
But first, we wanted a nice breakfast.
We did not have one. Well, he was probably OK with his, but I was NOT with mine.
We were heading for the IHoP, but missed the turn-off on the right, so we ended up going to the next stop light, doing a u-ey, and turning in to Ryan's Restaurant in Danville, Virginia.
If you ever see this place,
keep on driving.
Now, I generally hate a buffet,
except for China Buffet in Plymouth, NC.
(But that's Chinese
and that's different.)
And this breakfast buffet was no exception.
The bacon was undercooked.
The eggs in every form were overcooked.
The toast was not even good bread.
The fresh fruit didn't even taste good.
The hash browns were gray, not brown. The sausages were totally unappetizing.
I never want waffles or pancakes.
I hate creamed, chipped beef. I haven't been able to eat melons since I was pregnant with Daughter Hawthorne but that's another story.
I could go on,
but you get the picture. There was a not-too-bad-looking salad bar set up at 9 am. But I just couldn't deal with lettuce at that time. Now, just re-reading that "I couldn't deal with lettuce" at 9 AM, I must comment on a little quirkiness of my sons. They must have their meals in order. If they wake up at one in the afternoon, they will not eat lunch. They want BREAKFAST. Right then and there. They cannot continue with their day unless they start it off with breakfast. While I've eaten breakfast at 7-8 o'clock that morning, and it's 1-2-3 in the afternoon and I'm getting ready to fix my lunch, and did I mention it was 1-2-3 in the afternoon, and my sons are finally getting up and stumbling downstairs and upstairs to a meal?, they want breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, grits, toast, muffins, French toast, biscuits, sausage, gravy, bacon. You name it. Hey. It's 2 in the afternoon. It's LUNCHTIME. But I guess I kinda understand it now. I wanted breakfast. (But at a civil hour. 9 am this morning) Couldn't eat the salad bar at breakfast time. But one shouldn't be expected to eat a lunch meal at breakfast time. My lazy-ass boys should be expected to eat LUNCH at LUNCHTIME. NOT breakfast. Mothers, am I RIGHT?
OK. I'm ranting. I'll table it for later. Back to Ryan's Restaurant. I thought I was getting a poached egg
with a nice runny yolk.
But YOWZA!!!!
I have no freakin' idea what this thing is.
The texture was ... other-worldly.
It appeared ... plastic.
I really can't describe it.
Words just fail me.
Please watch this video of the egg.
Sorry it's out of focus.
I was too close to the egg and didn't want to stand up
and bring even more attention to myself than I already had.
As it was, I was embarrassing Mr. Hawthorne
by taking my camera out and playing with the "food."
He also was upset with my comments about the egg when the waitresses were walking by and overheard me.
Do any of you think I give a rat's ass about any of that?
Mr. Hawthorne apparently thinks I should.
At one point while I was poking the offending, offensive,
incredibly inedible egg,
I looked over to my left
and saw two of the waitresses and the hostess
in a huddle staring at me.
They immediately looked away.
I went back to my poking.
Then, a few seconds later,
quickly turned to the left again.
Heh.
All three were still staring at me,
talking amongst themselves.
Little did they know
I am an infamous restaurant critic
and food blogger.
Then Mr. Hawthorne says,
"If they say anything, I'll just tell them
you're a restaurant critic.
Plus, you're just plain critical of everything else."
I prefer to think I have
a discerning palate.
I despise chain restaurants.
Red Lobster ... I don't think so.
I've had horrible meals there.
And just driving by an Applebee's
makes my bowels do roller-coaster-like flips.
Taco Bell is Taco Hell.
I'm sorry.
But I HATE the food at these places.
Now, I can add Ryas's Restaurant to my list.
Here's another video of the egg.
I've never seen anything quite like it.

Finally, I just had to try the asphalt test.

And the egg aced the test with flying colors. Then Mr. Hawthorne asked me if I was just going to leave the egg in the parking lot. Why yes, I believe I am.

Mr. Hawthorne stopped for a fill-up right before the NC line. I ask you, my loyal readers, "Why did they spell the name of this place, fas mart? For cripe's sake, would it have killed them to add the t to fas? Does this make the fas mart ... ... uhhhh ... ... I dunno ... ... faster? Or should I say, fasser? I hate deliberately misspelled words. Now, you know I love fusion cuisine
as much as anyone.
Remember Mr. Hawthorne's and my
trip down the Blue Ridge Parkway
when we went miles out of our way
to the Thai Mex restaurant, even though we were looking for another place that just-wasn't-there even though our Garmin insisted it was?
(Scroll way down,
but enjoy the pictures on the way.)
Here's more on fusion cuisine. And you know I'm all about the fusion now.
Well, on our drive home today,
we saw this place,
and Mr. Hawthorne turned back for me
so I could take pictures.

It's Chino Latino.
And it's in the outskirts of Durham, NC.
Hey, this looks like my kind of place.

Now, my curiosity is piqued.
I wish I could read Chino-Latinese.
What is Viernes13?
Friday the 13th is now free?
Is the restaurant closed due to
a group of people making renovations
on the restaurant
or is it due to a rehab meeting for alcoholics and druggies?
Are they have $5 boxing fights on Saturday nights?
And a disc jockey on Sundays? So many questions.
A Special Thank You To Mr. Hawthorne:
Thanks for turning around
so I could get this shot.
I said "Stop so I can get a shot of that" and you kept right on driving, asking me if I wanted you to turn around.
But you finally stopped and turned around for me.
You've finally learned that yes means yes,
no means no,
and when you ask me a yes or no question
and I just say it's OK/nevermind while letting out an audible sigh
it means read my mind,
for crying out loud.
It's Not OK and don't nevermind.
I just said STOP so I can get a shot of that. So turn around and go back so's I can get a shot of it.
...End of rant...
And thank you for stopping in Plymouth, NC,
so I could go to China Buffet .
And whatever I said about buffets before
does not apply to China Buffet in Plymouth.
Oh wait a minute. That wasn't YOU that stopped at China Buffet. That was ME. You know, you couldn't drive. You were too tired. Your eyes were closing and you had to stop so you could sleep.
Now, whenever I have been in the passenger side of a vehicle, I have been a fascinating passenger. Whenever he drives, I'm a wonderful, entertaining, fully satisfying passenger not to mention a delightful conversationalist. Who would not be totally enthralled with me? I am a font of information, a prattering Chatty Cathy full of fascinating facts and trivia. Hell, you can ask me anything. And I can tell you more about it than you'd ever want to know. And then some.
When he pulls over for me to drive, he curls up in the fetal position and immediately goes to sleep and I must forward on with no one to talk to. Although, as you know, I'm totally OK with talking with myself. It's fascinating conversation and I agree with everything I say. I do not like sleeping passengers.

Sometimes, these hole-in-a-wall places
are the best.
They have 4 different types of soups. I always get the wonton with big celery slices. Mr. Hawthorne always gets the sweet and sour soup with mushrooms. I really don't like that soup. He used to get it from China King in KDH whenever he ordered soup while we were doing the kitchen remodel. We'd sometimes get the kids to pick up a Chinese takeout on their way home. We'd ask Middle Hawthorne to get the sweet and sour soup for Mr. H. and MH would come home saying, "Yeah, I called your order in for PIGVOMIT SOUP, and they like knew exactly what I was talking about."
Here's my plate of some faux fish,
crab rangoon with no discernible crab to speak of,
baby corn and broccoli with some beef,
pork-fried rice,
a carrot and broccoli stir fry,
some pepper chicken,
some peppers and onions,
some General Tso's chicken, some sweet and sour chicken
some shrimp,
some other stuff I don't remember,
but it was all good.

After lunch,
we stopped by Xmaskatie's and Mr. Xmaskatie's home for a quick visit.
They'd been staying chez Hawthorne babysitting
Dixie so we could take off on our little trip.
We arrived at their home after driving 4 hours
from the west.
They arrived at their home
after driving 1 1/2 hours from the east.
Pretty much at the same time.
A BIG THANK YOU
to Mrs. & Mr. Xmaskatie
for making this trip possible!

Here's Katie waiting for her mistress
to kick-the-pine-cone-all-ready!
Nice view from their backyard.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

"a group of people making renovations"
Perhaps they were planning a group trip to reno, and forgot the "ca" in vaCAtion.
And regarding your egg, I have actually heard someone order a well done poached egg, and she said "like a hockey puck" to the waiter.
And you are most welcome, Dixie was very well behaved.

Hairball T. Hairball said...

There's a restaurant in the town where my MIL lives that serves Chinese and Mexican food. The first time I went through the buffet line was a very interesting experience!

Marilyn said...

My daughter also must have breakfast when she gets up, no matter what the hour.