Must have been about 1970, I was on the Taconic State Pkwy at dinnertime, and got off at the first exit whose sign said food. It was a joint attached to a motel -- and it was wonderful. A little loaf of fresh-baked bread on a breadboard. The peas not overcooked. I overheard the headwaiter giving instructions, and it was clear that he was the one who had performed the feat of morale-building. He must have been down on his luck.
no subject
Date: 2012-08-11 12:23 am (UTC)