On a time when all you needed in life was a beer and a plate of mozzarella sticks.
Love it, bro. But I disagree. We ARE the same people deep inside that we were all those years ago. We’ve been battered by experience, our lives have scarred us in innumerable ways, but somewhere deep inside? There will ALWAYS be that same kid who remembers the smell of freshly fried food, a cold pitcher of fine beer, and the hope of a girl across the way returning a wink. It’s what we always remember, and it’s what keeps us who we are. (Rock on!) 😎
Great article, Jay. Brought me back to the 'burg in the early 90's. I can still see Ronnie's smile in my mind as he hands me my cheese fries and a bottle of hot sauce. Paul's has a special place in my heart!
Top of the Stairs in Blacksburg, Va. i am not sure I can tell you why, but everyone tells me the day after I went there I had a really good time.
Not a bar, but an iconic ordering ritual existed at Bakeman’s, a subterranean lunch only cafeteria style restaurant in Seattle that catered to the nearby desk jockeys and people on jury duty (now closed due to pre-COVID downtown rent increases). They served other comfort food like meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, brownies, but the overwhelmingly dominant order was the turkey sandwich (they cooked dozens of whole birds fresh daily). As you moved your tray through the long line the game was to order how you wanted it without getting a question from the staff, as in “mixed on dark with cran ($0.25 extra), mayo, lettuce, no tomato.” After adding side dishes and drinks, the surly cashier would offer to flip you double or nothing for the change due, or any other denomination you wanted to bet (I believe it was cash only). My batting average on won coin flips for less than a buck was about .700 until I got cocky on their last day of business and lost $20.