MORE SQUASH STORIES. SORT OF.

Written by  ,     October 23, 2010     Posted in Fun, Restaurant, The Lighter Side

17 years ago, we opened Cobblestones and Hummus was on the menu. With feta cheese, Kalamata olives, olive oil and pita. It was called “Mediterranean-ish”. It didn’t sell. We removed it. (White Zinfandel, however, was a big mover)

A few years later we put the same hummus on the menu, and mussels. Neither sold well. We removed them both. We tried again several years later. To no avail. Apparently Hummus was not yet ready for the Lowell area.

Stubborn as we are, Hummus is back on the menu. A 4th time, I am certain Same recipe. Same ingredients. And it sells great. So do the mussels. (3rd time) In fact, at a different downtown restaurant-with great food and weird owners– (“You should talk Plath”) I ran into good customers of ours and they were raving about the hummus plate. “No matter what else I want when I visit Cobblestones, I can’t bring myself to order anything else”

So. At Moonstones the other night, our more daring, more exotic “sister” restaurant—where we seek the perhaps more “cool” and progressive people, those that dare beyond hummus—a couple walks in, he of an older dashing sort- white, has a boat, gray wavy hair, cardigan sweater. She taller than he, better looking than he, chestnut black and with an exotic accent (West Indian? Jamaican?) They requested a nice table in the corner. Progressive often describes an inter racial couple. Not always, but often.

Once seated, they proceeded to order the Butternut Squash Soup. Chef finishes the squash soup with a dollop of cinnamon accented crème fraiche (If you don’t eat Hummus, Crème fraiche is very similar to sour cream–it adds a cool and sour contrast to warm and sweet. Plus, as it melts you can make cool, swirly lines on the surface of the soup! “Don’t play with your food”)

When delivered, she of tall dark and sophisticated, looked at her soup and exclaimed;
“Oo, Cool whip”

And the beat goes on…

-Although I must admit, every once in awhile I feel like Dorothy, in reverse.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore Toto”

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