Friday night we settled in for a feast at the local restaurant Alfalfa’s. It is known for its vegetarian fare, but perhaps to be ironic, I had the meatloaf. It was luscious with a sweet, chipotle ketchup. The husband had trout; I tasted and saw that it was good, and then we shared half and half, and I was one happy lady. I was even happier when it was decided that dessert (Derby Pie) and coffee ( simple cinnamon) were necessary. The restaurant was super busy, and the staff was overwhelmed by a bigger crowd than they were prepared for, but truth be told, it made the night so much better. John and I were a quiet little bubble in the midst of the humming hive of activity as people went to and fro, and it took a nice, long time, but we were not in a hurry, nowhere to be but together, so instead, we settled in for a long winter’s meal and just enjoyed it like the Europeans do. I contemplated dark chocolate bread pudding (an earlier dessert I can’t get out of my mind) and how to teach kids Macbeth, and John thought about taking up fly fishing, and later we took the long way home and pulled the lull of the restaurant out onto the night time sidewalk all the way home.