Jim & I had a great dinner at a new restaurant tonight. He told me not to tell anyone, in case the place starts getting too busy & we have to wait in line. But it's such a cool place, I think all my friends should go!
Cafe 22 West is just, ahem, west of Salem on Highway 22, across the highway from Pentacle Theater. It's run by the family that owns the fruitstand on the same site. So, of course, the cafe uses all fresh, local vegetables and fruits!
I had a fabulous chicken breast stuffed with sundried tomatoes, spinach and feta, with green beans & garlic mashed potatoes on the side. Jim had bbq ribs (the first night they've served them), with sweet corn on the cob, beans and potato salad. I also had a side salad to start, and it was delicious with green leafy lettuce & tiny cherry tomatoes. Then, to top off the evening, we ordered dessert, which they make over at the fruitstand. There were a ton of choices, but we settled on blackberry-peach shortcake, all fresh & homemade. It was incredible & we were very happy. :-)
We rode the motorcycle out there, and it was a perfect late-summer evening. Not hot, not cool, just nice.
Speaking of local foods, I was just reading my new used book (1973), purchased last weekend at The Book Habit - which was open late (yes, in Salem!) because the guy was there doing some work. The book is "The Wild Food Trailguide" and cover has a photo of a guy in John Lennon glasses with long bushy sideburns. Anyway, apparently you can make tea out of blackberry leaves. And blackberry shoots make a good snack. Huh. Despite my obsessive killing of our blackberry plants, we've still got plenty. Maybe I'll try to make tea....
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Completely unrelated: Last week, we saw "Tropic Thunder" when my sis Rachel was in town. It was hilarious & fun. Since then, she has renamed my poor dog Simple Chester, after a certain, um, slow character in the film. I heartily defend him- he's sweet & cute & brains aren't everything, right? But in the past 20 minutes or so, he has lost his ball under the couch about 5 times. And each time, instead of sticking his paw in to get it, or telling me, or something, he just lays there and bites the couch trying to coerce it into giving up the ball. Sigh. Poor Simple Chester. (Tho, as I was writing this- he gave up on the ball and instead grabbed a shoe to chew on. And ya know what? Shoes don't roll! What a smart puppy!)