Where are your memories stored? Sometimes they are caught up in a single sound. That happened to me yesterday. On an impulse we decided to stop at a newish restaurant for lunch. The name alone--"Lettuce Eat"--made it a fun idea, particularly since we're still cutting calories around here.
What a find it was! They serve only fresh salads (and wraps made from salads) and the food was fabulous, but for me the best moment came when I heard a drumbeat-like sound that echoed faintly through the whole restaurant. It came from the salad choppers, using a wicked looking double handled blade to chop and blend each salad on a large white cutting board.
You can read more about this great addition to the Memphis restaurant scene here: http://styleblueprint.com/memphis/everyday/lettuce-eat/
And what was the memory stirred up by that pounding sound? It took me back to 1983 and my first visit to Mont-St-Michel in France. We stayed at La Mere Poulard Hotel, whose kitchen is famous for its omellette -- a frothy, almost meringue-like concoction unlike any American omelet you've ever tasted. The sound -- the same drumlike beat that goes on and on--came from the cooks in the kitchen, who were whipping the eggs with huge whisks in copper bowls.
Both restaurants are unique in their own locations, both for the same reasons, which include absolutely fresh food prepared by hard-working hands -- a combination that somehow produces a music all its own.
Thanks for the memory.