Dave’s is what Americans euphemistically call a family restaurant, meaning to which you could take the family without having to renegotiate with your banker about the next mortgage payment. It was where one could order basic fares at a price not too far above McDonald’s. Needless to say, one also had to adjust one’s culinary expectations, south.
Last Saturday I spent the whole day by myself and went to vigil mass at 5. After that I went home and found it dark and quiet. Then I remembered my wife had told me to take care of my own dinner. She had gone to a class of some sort on the use of her new toy — the iPhone 6S.