Shopping Report: Sun Harvest

Please don't be offended by this, but if I were to stand outside of most health food stores trying to come up with a broad description of the people who shop there, in a single word, I'd have to choose weird.

Please don't misunderstand; I am all for healthy eating and in fact, over the last year or more have changed my own personal eating habits to include more healthful choices like fresh fruits, grains, less red meat and more fish. I actually do eat organic waffles containing flax, and even have a shaker of flaxseed that I sprinkle on top of fruit and yogurt. But for the most part, I have been able to make these personal changes, without changing the place I buy food, because I don't feel the need to arbitrarily pay double the price for things.

Okay, so if you aren't pissed off yet, I'll tell you why I went to Sun Harvest.

A friend at work let me try these Pita Chips that he says he got at Whole Foods or some place like that. These puppies seem to be deep fried in something, then covered with various seasonings. Healthy or not, they taste great! So, I told my wife we ought to go buy a bucket of them, sit in front of the TV and eat them.

All.

Once again, San Antonio experienced another Noah's Ark-worth of rain, and I decided that instead of driving all over town trying to find Whole Foods, I'd go to this Sun Harvest off IH-10 and Callaghan. If they sell healthy stuff, certainly they would have the healthy junk food, right?

There were lots of older folks shopping at Sun Harvest. I don't attribute shopping there to them trying to be healthy, I suspect that this store is simply a neighborhood grocery to them. Much like in some urban areas, people shop at 7-Eleven simply because they don't have a car, and it is the closest place to purchase a $4.75 gallon of milk and some rolling papers.

Moving away from the normal-seeming old people, now we have the generic weird people I described earlier. These are people who would give anything to live in Austin, and would fit in nicely, but circumstances have kept them here in San Antonio. These people most likely listen to NPR, drive a VW with a flower mounted in the dashboard, have a bumper sticker that says, "Impeach Bush" on their car, and have only dated other ugly people.

But I mean all this in a good way.

As my wife and I strolled through the aisles looking for the Fried Pita Chips Slathered in Herbs I so desperately wanted, I saw one gentleman who was fully decked out in safari clothing. Is that standard issue for a trip to the grocery store on a rainy day, or do you suppose he was simply purchasing a box of frozen Tofurky for his big expedition to The Shoppes at La Canterra?

Another handsome lady was prepared for shopping duty in her Hemp jeans and tie-dyed t-shirt as though at any moment, she expected to meet Peter, Paul and Mary at the check-out line.

Perhaps I'm too harsh, but I make no illusions about why I was there. I was looking for junk food and it just happened to be at a healthy food store I was looking for it in. The interesting thing was, not only did they sport two full aisles of junk-food, but by simply applying the label "Organic" or "Healthy" to a product, people felt free to dig in.

They had set-up an end cap with a two plates of cookies, and not one person (myself included) walked by without trying a few samples. That's fine, but why didn't these people jump on a treadmill and walk for a few minutes after eating? I'll tell you why - because they don't really care about their health, they just like the idea of appearing to care about their health, the environment, and this good feeling gives them an excuse to wear goofy clothing styles.

In the end, I did not find the chips I was looking for so it was pretty much a bust, but my wife did purchase a pound of walnuts and she found them a lot cheaper than what we could get from HEB.

* Please don't be offended; I'm just poking fun - and why not? There really was a goofy guy in a safari outfit.

A Chance Encounter Report: Meeting the Peña's

Saturday my wife and I were off on one of our many weekend adventures and while visiting the San Antonio Shoe Factory, we met an interesting family that I'd like to take just a moment to write about.

We often get strange looks when we enter a store or restaurant and I start in with the snapping of pictures. To take happy snaps at Sea World or the Zoo is one thing, but to meticulously take before, during, and after pictures of your lunch is quite another. So, my wife has become quite skilled at explaining that I'm a nut, but that I also like to write about the different places we visit throughout San Antonio. Just a hobby, she tells them, no need for alarm.

When I finished taking a few pictures of the SAS place (which I'll be happy to tell you about later), my wife was sitting at a table eating some popcorn and sipping a soda, and she was telling this nice family about our daughter who is in the Air Force. You would be surprised at how many people ask you about your kids when you where a T-Shirt that says, "I'm an Air Force Mom".

I have a maddening shy streak in me that makes me want to avoid conversation with strangers unless forced by danger or beer, whereas my wife is one of those people who has never met a stranger. She is friendly to everyone and people seem to like her enough to engage in lengthy conversations as though they have known one another for years. So to find her talking to these friendly people about our daughter was no surprise at all.

Soon, the husband began talking to me about our idea of visiting different places in San Antonio and telling of our encounters. He suggested that we visit the Missions - how he often felt embarrassed that young kids from Mexico know more about the Missions here in San Antonio than we as residents do. It's true. Somehow, his conversation turned to current events and the war, but mostly about Iran.

Though this man had a very solid perspective (in my opinion) on the issues facing the country as related to Iran, I could feel myself wanting to find an excuse to move along and continue taking pictures. I listened and agreed with most of what he had to say but still, there is something about me that wants to escape in situations like this. But I'm glad I sat and listened to this man speak.

As a parallel conversation was going on between my wife and his wife, I heard the woman say that they had lost their son in Afghanistan.

Her husband paused for a moment and then confirmed what I had just heard and told us a little bit of their son's story. I felt a twinge of stupidity in myself when I finally read the words on the cap he was wearing, a memorial to his son with accouterments of miniature medals and such.

When we did finish talking and we all shook hands and bid farewell, I thanked the Peña's for their son's service to our country. Not surprisingly, these fine people wanted us instead to thank and think of the others who have served and still do serve.

These are good people and it was a pleasure to meet them.

You can read more about their son, Sgt Roger P. Peña, Jr., here.

Looking for Big Willy...

When I arrived in San Antonio for the second time, a day or two before the big snow storm of 1985, it wasn't long before co-workers at the base would talk about "Going to see Big Willy" or making references to "Big Willy" instead of the hospital etc. Soon I would figure it out that they were referring to Wilford Hall Medical Center. But even then, I thought of the place as a "hall", a hall that was named after Mr. Wilford or as his friends called him, Big Willy.

I know this sounds ridiculous now, but in the grand scheme of things, I worked in a place named Ardisana Hall, I had been to events at Mitchell Hall and Arnold Hall, so why not yet another hall named after some guy named Big Willy Wilford?

Big Willy has been good to my family. My son was born there, my wife has been there a for a few short stays and my daughter has been in a time or two. We have seen our fair share of the emergency room there and the clinics, and I even had eye surgery there, hence my ability to see without the use of glasses. A chiropractor at Big Willy taught me how to reset my back when it feels off, and honestly, it hasn't been a problem since. So, unlike a lot of visitors, we are pretty big fans of Big Willy.

But you never really want to go there.

When our son was about 2 and a half, we were living in Italy and noticed a slight lump on his chest. We went to the pediatrician and they looked at it a measured it and took pictures of it, but the doctor assured us frantic young parents that it would be okay. He said if it grew and we were worried about it, to wait until we got back to the states and have it removed.

It did, we were, and when we got back to the San Antonio, we went to see Big Willy. In the grand scheme of things, and having known people who have been plagued with all sorts of different illnesses in their kids, even a few who have tragically lost their children, a little lump of fat on a kid's chest is nothing to get excited about.

But when it is your kid, you aren't thinking of how fortunate, how truly blessed you are; you just know that the doctor tells you to sign forms understanding the risks of any complications or infections, and that it is scary, in any hospital.

So as we waited in the big, scary hospital with a three year old who had an idea that something was happening but not really what, and as my wife and I tried to avoid thinking about what could happen so as to avoid freaking out, we took little walks around the various floors and clinics, looking for Big Willy.

I'm sure at one time in my life, I had an imagination suitable of generating characters sufficient for capturing the attention of any three-year-old, but at a time like this, the windows overlooking the rooftops and storage sheds that housed equipment and such, the things needed to run a modern facility made for quite a game of cat & mouse. We would wander along and I would quickly spin him around pointing off in the direction out the window and we were both convinced that Big Willy had just passed by and slipped in behind some air conditioner units or some other structure to hide his view of little kids. Oh yes, Big Willy did not want to be seen - that was half the fun of looking for him. My son was one of the few people ever to get an actual glimpse of Big Willy. There is some older maintenance man who will never know that his chance sighting on one of the roofs going into a storage shed has lived in our minds for all these years. We never saw Big Willy again, but for one important day, he did more for a little kid and his parents than he will ever know.

So in the end, enough time had passed and enough nerves were settled that when the surgeon called for us to turn our little boy over to the anesthesiologist, we were able to do so. And as luck would have it, the only two things that resulted were a slight scar that my son would later tell kids in school that he had earned in a knife fight, and a continual search for Big Willy over the years.

Our kids are like real live adults now, though like a lot of parents, we don't always see it. Earlier this week, my wife took my son to see Big Willy, and expecting to get a prescription for some sort of flu or cold or something normal, they instead admitted him and kept him for the remainder of the week running all sorts of tests.

All is well and he is fine now, but the escalation of emotions from concerned to upset to freaking out can happen pretty quick when the series of phone calls go from "we're at the doctor" to "they want to admit him" to "they just took him into the operating room"! I guess I won't be stopping for a coffee on my way to the hospital!

So what do you do with a 21 year old who has to stay in the hospital until they finish "observing" him? You look for Big Willy.

My wife took our son around the various places in his past - the maternity ward (though it has moved floors in 21 years) and the surgical ward where they removed that piece of fat from his chest, and a tour of the outer windows and the various hiding spots where we had looked for Big Willy. Good times.


In case you wondered, Maj Gen Wilford F. Hall died in 1962, But Big Willy is alive and well, at least for now.

Crappy Job Report: The Time I got Poop in my Eye...

The other day while my wife and I traveled through some of the older parts of town to avoid contact with the construction on Loop 410, I was reminded of a brief period that I was working with my brother-in-law while waiting for details of my current contract to be worked out.

I'm not in the construction trade, but what guy would pass up the opportunity to be like Bob Vila for a few weeks while making a few dollars? If you are familiar with the neighborhoods in between IH-10 and Loop 410 between Vance-Jackson and West Avenue, you get the idea of where I am talking about.

My brother-in-law, Junior as we call him, works in the trades business. He is certainly a jack of all trades and can do electrical, plumbing, general construction, and he has also done repair of restaurant equipment and other things. This is no free advertisement or anything - so please don't e-mail me asking to see if I can get you a good rate. During the time of this story, we had been working to refurbish several rental properties around the city and had a few different property managers and Realtors that would call us for bids.

So anyway, he calls me and asks me if I can go look at a property to help him assess the situation. He says that this Realtor has a property that was vacated by the renters and that the house needs to be cleaned up. Now keep in mind, you all know that when people leave a rental property, they usually just un-ass, take the stuff they want and leave the rest. The result is, the landlord is stuck with hauling out the trash, getting rid of a dead couch and cleaning things up. A few guys and a pick-up truck can usually clear out a house in no time.

The Realtor said that “Before you make your bid, you really need to go look at the place.” Junior was pretty adamant that he could get the job done for less than $500.00. The Realtor again said, “No, you need to see the place”.

You have no doubt heard of cat ladies that have 68 cats living in a house, crapping everywhere, newspapers piled up, opened cans of cat food sitting all over the place. This was worse. No cats.

The people who lived in the house were no doubt sick.

When I first peered through the window, I though I might be in beer drinker’s heaven. It was this experience which taught me to take my camera with me everywhere I go. If I had the camera to take pictures, you might find it easier to believe this.

This 3 bedroom, 2-bath house was a sea of beer cans and trash piled 2 feet high. But, they had small paths leading to strategic locations like the refrigerator, the bathroom, and the front door. I refused to enter the house for fear of rats. The beer cans and the 18-pack cardboard cases were left in place as if the occupants had simply arranged to have a non-stop supply of beer delivered, and that they sat there and drank one beer, dropped the can and opened the next. When the first case was finished, they simply opened the next and so on and so on until their was an 1,800 square foot house full of beer cans, pizza boxes, dirty laundry, discarded tissues and so on.

Oh, the bathrooms were a hoot. And yes, beer cans in the bathrooms. The walls of the shower stall and the tub were covered in mold. And for some reason, they stopped putting the toilet paper in the toilet – they just wiped their butts and threw the toilet paper on the floor. Perhaps they had visited Mexico and decided to be exotic or something.

So, long story short, Junior had to hire some other workers he found to clear out the entire house. In addition to $650.00, he told them they could take anything that wasn’t nailed down that they wanted (nice side by side refrigerator at Best Buy - $1,200 – the mold encased version, free). These guys came in with gloves, masks, shovels and a huge truck and cleared the place in a matter of hours.

You can empty the contents, but you can’t empty the filth. That’s when I showed up with a power washer. Bob Vila would never recommend using a power washer inside a house on solid wood floors and sheetrock. I march to the beat of a different drummer I suppose.

The worst part was when I aimed the power washer at one of the toilets.

Big mistake.

Apparently, when they decided that the toilet was running too much, they decided to turn off the water supply to it. Well, apparently, that didn’t stop someone from taking a dump in it. By the time I got there with my power washer, the poop in the pot had dried. Dried feces and 2300 psi from the power washer equals a whole new game of foul smelling doo-doo flying back at you.

Thank God I have fast reflexes. But I could not dodge the smell. I literally threw up on the spot.

I ran out of the house and threw up in the yard. I waited a few minutes to regain my composure and decided to go in for another whiff. I threw up again.

In the end, I had to hold my breath long enough to get a hose through the bathroom window into the toilet so I could try to clear things up. I let the hose run full blast for 15 minutes before it cleared the funk from the bathroom. Oh, it was a total of 4 times that I threw up.

Okay, three days later, the house was clean and the real estate lady did not even recognize the place. She was in shock. Turns out, it was her house and she had been letting her daughter and her family live there, and the reason the house was vacated was that she had moved them into a new house she bought in a nicer neighborhood.

Attention residents of Stone Oak: Your new neighbor is Joe Dirt!

Graffiti Report: City Repaints Oscar Perez Memorial Park

At the first GNW HOA meeting I attended, someone brought up the issue of the graffiti that had accumulated at Oscar Perez Memorial Park and it was suggested that people should call the city's 311 Information Line to report any sighting of the obnoxious vandalism so appropriate measures could be taken. I was pretty pleased to see some action taken by the City Manager, Sheryl Sculley and her staff following a complaint by one of my neighbors.

As a homeowner living in a community with an association, I appreciate the amenities offered, the security, the fact that we as a group have agreed to certain standards of appearance etc. But I would give up all of that and continue to pay my monthly association fees if someone could simply come up with an answer to this graffiti problem that has really gotten out of hand in the last 12 to 18 months.

If you are looking to sell your property or rent it out, you can do all the cleaning, painting and "curb appeal" modifications you want, but you cannot do anything about the negative impact a neighborhood full of graffiti will have on the value of your home.

Aside from the diminishing re-sell value to your home, just think about how it makes you feel about the neighborhood in general. I know it isn't a reflection on my individual property, but it is embarrassing to invite friends and family over when they have to drive through an entry way of graffiti marked privacy fences, sidewalks, and of course, Oscar Perez Memorial Park.

To me, this should make the eradication of graffiti of this area (and really, all of San Antonio) a much higher priority than many of the other services offered, not only by this HOA, but by the city and the county.

For whatever reason, there seems to be this mindset that graffiti is inevitable, it is the work of harmless pranksters, and it is art. I'm sorry, but I have to call the Big BS on all of that.

This is art:

This is vandalism:

It is high time that parents teach their little Rembrandt's and Monet's the difference. And it is also time that as a city and perhaps as a community, we invest in technology that will not only deter such crimes, but will also catch these criminals and provide evidence toward their prosecution.

Yes, prosecution. The next time you rely on the fact that the city offers free paint to help cover up such crimes, think about the money that a homeowner invests to install a new privacy fence, only to have it spray painted days later. Simply painting over the damaged section in white paint does nothing to recover the value of the fence. It is ruined. If you don't agree, I'd like to suggest the next time you purchase a new car, you take a paint brush and cover an 18" X 18" square on the hood of your car with regular latex paint in a color different from your vehicle's factory paint job. The new car smell won't change the damage you have done to the new car paint.

Many of us have security systems installed at home that include a glass breakage feature. Essentially, a little sensor is programmed to recognize the specific frequency of glass breaking. The system can then sound the alarm, call the monitoring company or whatever action you have programmed it to do.

Why couldn't the City deploy similar sensors set to recognize the rattling sound of a spray-paint can being shaken? Perhaps when activated, a flood light would turn on, perhaps an eardrum shattering alarm or even a hidden video camera would begin recording. Perhaps the Park Police would be deployed.

Yes, I know this costs money and I know we have many projects some consider higher priorities, but just for a moment, consider what the cost is to each of us as individuals, the loss in property value, and the disappointment of coming home to the vandalism brought upon us by teens and young adults who get off on the thrill of tagging and in the back of their minds know that the most that will happen to them if caught is perhaps some community service?

Why is the destruction of private and public property via the spray can any less a crime than a person who breaks into your car and steals your radio? It is time that we treat this problem as a crime and it is time that the city take some action.

And to the point, I am posting the original e-mail sent by my neighbor to the Mayor, the City Manager, and the Distrct Council person, including the pictures, followed by Mrs. Sculley's prompt response. Mrs. Sculley is a fine city manager and I appreciate the fact that action was taken IMMEDIATELY. More of us need to call and e-mail to get the services we deserve as taxpayers.

((I have edited out the identifying information of my good neighbor Gus, though I do have his permission to use them)).

From:
Sent: Monday, June 25, 2007 5:21 PM
To: Mayor Hardberger; City Manager; Sandra Garza
Subject: Oscar Perez Memorial Park disgrace

June 25, 2007

Dear Mayor, City Manager, and District 6 Council Woman

I have lived in this neighborhood for over 25 years. Until about 2 years ago, graffiti was not often seen here. Things have changed. The Oscar Perez Memorial Park was built. At first I thought this was a great idea to have a park where kids and families could enjoy the facility. I now wish is was a vacant lot full of sunflowers again. It was certainly more pleasant to look at. This park is covered with vulgar graffiti and is a disgrace to the neighborhood and to the city.

I resent that my tax dollars are spent having to pay park employees to repaint the equipment in this park every week only to have it tagged the very next day. The vandals that do this are criminals and should be dealt with as any other criminals. They are destroying property and should be apprehended and punished severely.

I am sure you are all aware of the problem, as it seems to be happening all over the city I have no suggestions to offer other that to suggest that if the problem continues the park should be returned to a vacant lot again. I am sure that Officer Oscar Perez did not sacrifice his life to be honored by a an eye sore such as this.

And here was the quick action and response taken by the City Manager, Mrs, Sculley.

Subject: RE: Oscar Perez Memorial Park disgrace

From: "City Manager"

Date: Tue, 26 Jun 2007 17:32:20 -0500

To: <>

CC: "Malcolm Matthews" , "David D Garza"

Mr.

Thank you for forwarding your concerns regarding the graffiti at the Oscar Perez Memorial Park. Via copy of this email, I will ask our Housing and Neighborhood Services Department to deploy our crews to remove the graffiti from the park property. I will also ask our Parks Police to be vigilant in ensuring appropriate security and safety of our residents enjoying the park and hopefully minimize graffiti activity. Thank you for bringing this to our attention.

Sheryl Sculley
City Manager

A crew was sent to Oscar Perez Memorial Park first thing in the AM (I saw them there on my way to work) and my neighbor actually stopped and talked to the workers as they repaired the damage.

Mrs. Sculley and her staff deserve our thanks for the prompt action, but the answer is that we need more work to put these little punks out of business.

Let GNW Security know if you see the little bastards in action and by all means, take their pictures and give them to police. If your property gets tagged, call the police, make them make a report, and demand action.

Okay, I feel a lot better - how about you? Do you or your kids know who the little taggers are? Tell me about it.

Shopping Report: The Shops at Artisans Alley

Following lunch at Earl Abel's, my wife and I were both pretty satisfied and ready to head home. We made our way to Loop 410 and by the time I got past Nacogdoches Road, it was pretty clear that traffic was backing up to the airport. We had misled ourselves into thinking that the construction only impacted the people going eastbound, but in fact, everyone was screwed.

I did a quick exit back onto Broadway and headed north adjacent to the airport and made my way to Wurzbach Parkway which turns into Bitters Road. It was my plan to take West Bitters out to 1604 and back home that way.

Things were running quite smoothly until we rounded the bin and saw 555 West Bitters which is the address of The Shops at Artisans Alley. I have wanted to stop in there for some time and just never did, so we figured it was worth a few minutes of our time.

I should caveat this with the fact that, I dress for comfort on weekends and usually avoid anyplace where I feel as though I might need to dress up. For example, I avoid North Star Mall and still have not set foot on the property of The Shoppes at La Cantera, for fear that some fashion security guard may apprehend me for failing to meet a minimum shoe style requirement or wearing shorts that come from a sporting goods store, and not a fancy online place. So you can appreciate my relief when we walked up the ramp to enter the place, and there was a not so pretty, not so fashionable lady standing there smoking a cigarette. Thank God I thought, no pretentious people here!

The best way to describe it is, it appears that somebody pushed together a bunch of old buildings on piers, then built a corrugated aluminum and fiberglass roof over the combined structures and connected the separate shops with a wooden deck. In essence, they built a micro-version of Bussey's flea market on stilts, and filled it with real shoppes and very few drunk people. And the people at this place also bathe regularly.

The stores included an actual tea room, a few restaurants and some antiques and furniture places, and a nice gallery we looked in called Hacienda. We also looked in a place called Tuscany that contained lots of items that you would imagine in a place called, Tuscany. Our last stop was a huge Antiques shop called Back Alley Antiques. This place is not for the faint hearted. These people have some seriously nice furniture. Aside from the fact that most of the tables and beds I liked came with the price tag of a quality used car, I could easily understand how someone would pay to outfit their home with this really high quality, well cared for old stuff. If you have any interest in furniture or antiques, you owe it to yourself to visit.

Bring the Brinks truck with you.

In fairness, we didn't stay to look at all the shops, in fact, of about 20 different stores and restaurants, we only stopped in three or four, but if you enjoy nice, artsy sort of things or are simply looking for an idea or little something to perk up your house, I'd say it is worth a try.

We'll definitely go back and try to check out a few more stores and maybe try out Bin 555, which a freind tells me is a great place to eat.

Got any new places I can go without putting on a Tux? Tell me about it.

Lunch Report: Earl Abel's

Like just about everyone in San Antonio, my wife went through some sort of depression when it was announced that Earl Abel's would be closing down so the property could be sold for, gasp, a high rise condo project called, "The Broadway".

I'll spare you the details and the history and let you read about it here and from their own homepage, but suffice it to say, when a landmark decides to cease operations, many people are suddenly overcome with grief for such a loss of a great place.

If I sound as though the closing of Earl Abel's didn't really make a huge spark on my meter of things to get upset about, you must understand that my first job was as an employee of McDonald's. With the right people, good management and an adherence to standards, you can build a McDonald's anywhere, and it will be good. 'Course, I don't eat at McDonald's' anymore, so I could be wrong about that.

But the more important point, I think is that as romantic as the old building on Broadway was, I suspect from a management approach, they were probably happy to be rid of all the old plumbing, electrical and HVAC issues, and welcomed the opportunity to move to a place that had suitable parking.

What would surely be missed from Earl Abel's was the atmosphere on the inside, the staff and the great food. I'm here to tell you, if you haven't been for yourself, you need to get off Broadway on to the new and improved Austin Highway, and go another mile or so to the Terrell Plaza Shopping Center. They got it right and it is time to go experience the new version of an old freind.

It is a bit disconcerting when you see the official Earl Abel's "This is It" sign pointing to a Big Lots!, but smartly, they took an end of the shopping center and used what curve to the building there was to give it a "diner" look. My wife had immediate doubts as we walked in from the spacious parking area but as soon as we walked in the door, we were met by the same (or replicated) benches that used to line the entry at the old place. Straight ahead, was ample seating with tables and booths as well as seating at the lunch counter (I guess that's what you call it).

We recognized several of the previous staff right away and of course, Curly, the butler holding a silver tray guarding the entrance to another dining area. I was surprised at how many things looked as though they were simply moved from the old location - chandeliers, mirrors, photographs etc. The carpet was obviously new, but had the same or similar pattern that I remembered.

From the word go, our waitress was fabulous and before we even got our drinks, my wife was starting to ease into a comfortable feeling as though not all was lost. Sadly, the pictures I took came out looking grainy and crappy, but if you have any recollection of the old EA's, you can appreciate that they tried to live up to the standard, in appearance and service.

I ordered the Reuben sandwich with string beans instead of fries, an endless cup of coffee and a bottomless glass of tea. My wife ordered the petite chicken lunch with mashed potatoes and broccoli.

I never have really come up with a scale for restaurants like critics have, you know, stars or jalapeños or thumbs and such, but I usually voice my appreciation for a fine meal with an "Mmm, mmm, now that, was a tasty treat". And, I usually wait until I have finished eating to give my assessment.

I have to say that I had not taken two bites of this Reuben, and the words were flowing from my mouth in between wiping the melted cheese from my mustache. "Mmm, mmm, tasty treat, mmm, mmm, mmm." Later, I would snag a small bite of my wifes chicken and I have to tell you that it was the most tender and juicy piece of yard bird with just the lightest coating of breading for flavor. You can't say enough about EA's mashed potatoes either. These didn't come from flakes in a box, they are actual potatoes that have been mashed.

There was a group of two families together at a table near us, and they seemed to be just ahead of us in the chronology of lunch events; drinks, dinner, dessert! I'm not a big fan of dessert at restaurants, but I don't mind having a taste of what my wife gets. The trick at EA's is that your waiter or waitress will be doing the cutting of the cake or pie, so feel free to announce that you'll be sharing. My wife really wanted the coconut cake or something like that, but sadly, it had sold out earlier. By the way, they make everything fresh in their own bakery which thankfully came in the move. She ordered a peice of some sort of butter cream cake, and the one or two bites that I forced myself to consume, were certainly fresh and worth the price. The people at the other table ordered about one of everything including some sort of chocolate ice box cake. I think it involved pudding and chocolate. It looked good from my vantage point.

In the end, we were well satisfied that we had made the trip and my wife was already making plans for future trips and such, so that in itself I suppose was a compliment to the people who made the decision to re-open in the new location. But don't take my word for it, get on over and taste it for yourself.

By thew way, if you have been to the new version, or if you'd like to share your memories of the old Earl Abel's, tell me about it, or just leave a comment.