In the last year, there’s been little opportunity for something as simple as a date on Friday night. With the virus controlling the show, restaurants have been all but shuttered. Things that we used to consider routine, like a dinner date, are now rare, treasured events. At least for me they are. So, last night was something special.
Finding a new friend is a wonderful experience of life. Like beginning a book by an unknown author, rich and exotic stories await as time is spent together, listening. My new friend and I grew up in entirely different ways, in places as different as Zimbabwe and Paris. Although born days apart in the same year into large families, the similarities of our early lives stop there. I’m learning about life in the refined East, while sharing about life in the wild West.
As different as we are, the more we find we are similar. A close friendship is building, as we keep track of shared interests, similar tastes in food, and things we find humorous. Yesterday, I was asked to join him on a Friday night date.
Discussing options available in my little town, the subject of KFC came up, (as in chicken). It was then, I knew my dining choice would be in Virginia City, Nevada at the most beautiful of restaurants named Cafe Del Rio. As a past resident of VC, I’ve spent hours dining in this fantastic venue, seated at comfy wooden chairs and surrounded by the history of the Comstock. Just eating in the dining room is an experience. The surrounding walls are rock, holding mysteries of the miners that might have handled them. The food is divine, the service, extraordinary. This is a place where the entire staff cares deeply about your dining experience, because, they own the place.
Driving to VC in the white Jeep Wrangler, dark clouds covered the vast desert sky. With another storm forming, we could see the mountaintop on which I lived for so many years from Highway 50. Blanketed by clouds, we were traveling to the base of Mt. Davidson at almost 6200 feet. Since April 8, VC has been an easy place to avoid, holding too many memories from my life with VST. But, last night, it held the promise of good food and friends.
Driving along 6 Mile Canyon Road, I remembered all the times VST and I scurried up and down the windy route. Any road that leads to VC is treacherous and needs the complete attention of a sober driver. Making the tight twists and turns while creeping higher and higher, sweet memories surrounded me. Thriving there for a time, it was our happy place for many years. Yesterday was the first return visit that didn’t involve tears and a heavy heart. I saw the town for the charming, quaint place it is and became just another tourist looking forward to dinner.
The owners of the restaurant were happy to see me. So many nights, they provided food for me when VST was sick, and after. The last 17 days of my life in VC, their food kept me nourished. Last night, the Gospel Fried Chicken didn’t disappoint, complete with HOMEMADE mashed potatoes and gravy, corn cut right off the cob, fresh coleslaw, and the centerpiece of the plate, boneless chicken breast prepared in a very secret way. All heavenly. We then shared a piece of Apricot-Ancho Chili Cheesecake with Chantilly cream on the side. Everything served with friendly banter between friends.
We now have another thing in common, both being true fans Cafe Del Rio Gospel Fried Chicken. We’re finding that time between us is sweatshirt-and-jeans-comfortable. Whether discussing the finer points of growing up on a farm, or being a Navy Seal in Desert Storm, we talk easily, seasoning our discussions with laughter and good stories.
For now, I’m looking forward to more Friday night dates to new and fun restaurants as Covid loses its deadly grip on our lives. Meals, movies, walks along the Truckee River, and friends. The last year has held enough horror, sadness, and tears to float the 7th fleet. With caution, its time for me to explore the world that awaits me.