Ahhhhhh, Sunday morning. Brett is doing some prep and cooking himself some eggs and sausage, hoping the grease will settle his stomach. His wife’s birthday is today and she’s still young enough to get excited by such things, so we had to go out last night. I was the sober one, which was pretty annoying, nothing worse than being in a bar full of drunks when your sober, but at least I’m just tired and not hung over…or hanged over…hang overed?
Anyway, Jared is up front doing waiter stuff, Em is on her way with doughnuts and Macie has a ballgame and will be late. Dan just walked in and got started prepping the front with Zac right behind him looking stoned. All present or accounted for.
I signed the lease and got the keys yesterday for the new place. We still don’t have a name for it yet, but we should be in there and getting work started next week. Remember the Green House Café, Holly? That’s the place, and I promise that there will be more than just a salad on the menu for the vegesaurs out there.
West Texas spring breaks are over and the ski area closes today, so it should be slowing down this week, soon we'll be able to do some more work on the menu. I’m also going to a cheese-making workshop in Taos this week, so we’ll also be kicking up our cheese production in the coming months. There was a couple in Capitan that had a really nice little cheese business up there, making very good cheeses from milk provided by their own pampered cows and selling it at the farmers' market. Unfortunately, they flaked out and sold their place and moved to Argentina. Fortunately, that opens the playing field for us to have the only locally produced cheeses, not only for the two restaurants, but for retail sales as well.
I think I would like very much to be sitting on a porch in the early morning chill a few years from now, somewhere north of the Jicarillas, watching over a small herd of cows and goats as they amble in from their pasture for their morning milking. Or maybe not, maybe I’d like to be trying my hand at another restaurant, or maybe I’d just like to be traveling and writing. Or maybe I’ll flake out and move to Argentina, it looks nice.
Your Tiny Hand Is Frozen
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