• 245 Houston

    From MICHAEL LOO@1:123/140 to ALL on Monday, April 15, 2019 03:14:44
    My friend Pete's favorite local pub is the Ginger Man in
    Rice Village, so he took me there before the potentially
    traumatic reunion dinner. As he's come back from Arizona
    to take care of his father, who is in home hospice (not
    a surprise at 93), he's become a bit of a regular here,
    with a regular waitress, Myrna, even. It's an old house
    with a patio out back and an impressive beer list at
    big-city but not exorbitant prices. Not being in a hoppy
    mood much lately, I got a Young's double chocolate milk
    stout, which sadly wasn't very chocolaty but also
    mercifully wasn't very milky, either. A pleasant,
    middle-of-the-road brew, not that interesting, so I
    followed it up with a Shiner Bock.

    ==
    one of our wealthier classmates hosted a dinner at his
    substantial mansion in River Oaks. Interestingly, this
    was the only event for which there was a charge, $30. I
    didn't expect much for that, but was met with surprisingly
    good catering with a good mix of offerings. The quality
    was high; the abundance not so - seemed to be managed in
    a WASPy sort of way.

    I tried a pork taco which was reasonably Mexican and not
    very spicy at all, subtly flavored.

    Satays were essentially unseasoned but surprisingly made
    from tenderloin, not tips or trimmings.

    I also had a few crudites with a generous dollop of what
    I thought was hummus but turned out to be a rose sauce,
    actually pretty good.

    Javillier Pernand-Vergelesses was the red of the day,
    a pleasantly light warm-weather red, quintessentially
    Pinot in the new style.

    My old heartthrob Jan was there with her husband, she as
    lovely as ever, he as dashing as ever. I didn't get to
    talk to them much, getting up to date with other
    classmates instead, some of whom I had fond memories of.

    After the party started to break up, Robin and his old
    buddy Howard, BMOCs in the old days, decided that I'd
    be best off being driven to my hotel, so they did.
    Probably that was wiser than the original plan, which
    was to have a couple more rounds with Pete.

    ==

    So Missy picked me up to go to our friend Jay's
    for our class brunch. She has always been a cheery
    and earnest sort of person and was of course one
    of the organizers, so she came with a display of
    class photos and easels to put them on, which I
    helped unload but didn't see (too hard).

    We got a 2/3 turnout, it was said, and I
    circulated through most of them during the events,
    this day fortified by vast number of mimosas made
    with a quite decent cava.

    I got to talk at length with heartthrob and her beau,
    which was good, and with my romantic rival of the
    period, and with my academic rival Polly who had better
    board scores than mine. Also an assortment of
    classmates and spouses I missed at the other gathering.

    We were offered a substantial spread, mostly very
    nicely done, sitdown restaurant quality in fact.

    There was a spicy shrimp and grits in a dark brown
    sauce that was as far as I could tell nondairy. The
    shrimp were an ounce each, and I ate the grits, a bit
    of a tribute, though I hadn't served myself much,
    By the way, Texas spicy isn't all that spicy.

    Carnitas were made with excellent beef chuck with a
    certain amount of fat, though I didn't make a
    spectacle at the buffet table by picking for it.
    Large tortillas and taco fixings came with.

    Various frittatalike things that I didn't try and
    crabcakes that I did - okay but with way too much
    filler.

    After amusements such as viewing the class movie from
    1969, they served us fresh fruit, of which I took
    only berries, which were better than Driscoll's.

    When she left, Missy gave me an envelope, whose
    contents I had no idea of - money? love letter?
    When I opened it back at the hotel, there were a
    couple generically encouraging (in a nonromantic
    way) notes I'd written her fifty years ago when
    whe was being wishy-washy about college. Why she
    kept these for half a century and why she decided
    to return them to me I've no idea.

    A few of us went up to the house's tower to chat
    and have another couple rounds, this time with real
    Champagne from Jay's own stash. I don't recall what
    it was, but I liked the cava just as well.
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