Please post the link to your weekly Slice of Life in the comments to this post.
Remember, you may also complete the weekly Slice of Life in your Writer's Notebook.
As I've done many times before an evening meal from 2(oh!)4's menu of local, fresh ingredients, I called to hear the night's specials, and, also on this particular evening, to verify my concerns that this unique, un-chain restaurant was indeed closing its doors sometime soon. I heard that duck breast with bok choy was the entree du jour, and then broached the subject of a closure. The chef confirmed my fears. I could only reply, "I'm very sorry to hear that. You have the best restaurant in Muncie... and, I'll see you tonight for dinner," while feeling inside that a simple pleasure of mine had been snuffed out - the restaurant's core belief in quality trampled by the "all-mighty dollar".
With tinges of anxiety, I prompted the three-block walk from home to the restaurant so we would be the first dinner seating, if not the first dinner guests entirely. The night's unpleasant development caused us to hastily arrive for supper a full three hours before the curtain call for the show we were headed to later at the Muncie Civic Theater, which was a mere two blocks from the restaurant.
And, where else might I go and hear Interpol or "Waken Up" by Arcade Fire while enjoying the sabroso flatbread that has smoked salmon, capers, crème fraiche, and two fried eggs on top (pictured above), with a side of grilled bok choy with fennel, and a blueberry-goat cheese tart for dessert?
Restaurant 2(oh!)4 will see me sometime this weekend and again next Friday or Saturday - its final day of business - because, it's that good; because, I believe in its vision of local ingredients prepared in inspired ways; and, because I know it's gonna hurt to drive by the empty store front in a few weeks. Restaurant 2(oh!)4 is one-of-a-kind in Muncie, and in my gastronomical life thus far; it's satisfying, ever-changing menu is up there with my perennial favorite food: kabanos with rye bread.
the art of reading
In addition to mentioning the book to one of the boys during the first week or two of the new school year, it seemed like I kept coming across this "book about baseball" and feeling intrigued by the retro-stylized cover. This past weekend, I also happened to flip open the October Vanity Fair to an article detailing author Chad Harbach's die-hard drafting and revision over the span of a decade to finally get this "It" book, The Art of Fielding, 'just right' and then to press. So, last evening, as a reward for finishing up the first six-weeks, I picked up my own copy of this new treat at Books-a-Million in Muncie - rather than through Amazon.com, since I don't want them to gobble up any more of their book-selling competitors. In regards to the quality of storytelling in this book, I will admit hoping for something that I can escape into and enjoy as much as the page-turning, action-romance of The Hunger Games series; as well, aspects of the plot that I am aware of so far are currently melding with memories of a foul ball, an endless friendship, and pain from A Prayer for Owen Meany and the yeshiva baseball league in opening of The Chosen.
Before heading to the bookstore, I did get to start reading The Art of Fielding via the first-chapter-and-a-half preview for Kindle users. In those initial pages, Harbach's convincing, engrossing imagery returned me to humid, mosquito-riddled summer nights on the V.F.W. ball diamond, tired from a double-header and dirty with the cocoa-powder color of the infield across the legs of my polyester uniform.
The beginning passage of The Art of Fielding also hinted at serendipity, which hangs in the air, at times, nearly as tangible as fog. Serendipity, which makes life so irresistibly charming and confounding, is chance encounters, experiences that transform our visions of the future, and our spirits laced together and put into motion. John Lennon sang, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans," and The Art of Fielding has the potential to be a much-needed reminder to l-i-v-e and l-o-v-e now, at this very moment.