A Visit to Winston-Salem: Part I - Lunch with Grant

On Friday I drove up to Winston-Salem, NC, with an itinerary to have lunch with my dear friend Grant, to see my Aunt Martha, and to pick up some Moravian Sugar Cake from Old Salem. I left Charlotte about 10am in a steady, cold rain - which continued through the entire day and the drive back making for a white-knuckle experience for me and Barbie. BTW, Grant was the one who came up with the name "Barbie Dream Car" for my Miata.



Grant and I worked together briefly in 2000 for 6 months. In that short time I knew I had a kindred spirit in Grant. We hit it off swimmingly and have remained good friends ever since. Grant is a tour de force in the hospitality/hotel world and embodies all the characteristics of a great leader, AND a great entertainer.

At lunch we HOWLED with laughter at some of the crazy antics we got up to back in the day. Over a yummy French Dip at the Winston-Salem Marriott's JW Steakhouse, we talked about how things have changed so much since then (only 8 years ago) in the way we do business, conduct meetings, and conduct ourselves. We chalk it up to having to be grown-ups now, and taking work a bit more seriously when you're a "senior" member of the staff compared to being one of the younger "kids".

If you've ever heard my "Big Duck" story - that was with Grant one weekend when he came up to DC for a visit. I must preface this story with the fact that we had had much too much to drink before hand, as was always the case when the three of us got together (or two of us in any combination) and we were already making all sorts of merriment prior to arriving at the restaurant.

It was a trendy bistro in Cleveland Park (a hip but well-heeled neighborhood in DC)with our cohort MaryBeth. I ordered a dish called "The Big Duck" which elicited more than a few snickers from the table as I mustered my most sophisticated tone through a vodka haze, giving my order to the server. MaryBeth followed with her order of some kind of non-descript fish dish, and Grant ordered the Beef Tenderloin.

MaryBeth's dinner arrived at the table first. The server presented her with a platter topped with a large silver dome. What he unveiled was a massive WHOLE FISH - including the head with its eyes still intact and open, fins and tail - baked and presented taxidermy style - sitting upright on its fins as if swimming through a stream. It was very dramatic and caused an uproar of laughter and amazement from us.

Next was my dinner - the "Big Duck" - which turned out to be A WHOLE ROAST DUCK - which was presented to me also on a platter with a silver dome. I was stunned at the enormity of my dinner but reveled in the fact that they also brought over a chinese butcher block and a very sharp cleaver - whereby the server proceeded to cut away at the duck until all the good meat was carefully laid upon the accompanying miniature crepes, brushed with hoisin, layered with the cucumber slices and scallions, and rolled into little morsels of pure heaven.

Simultaneously, Grant's tenderloin was presented to him and at this point, based on my and MaryBeth's large dishes, we collectively held our breath as the server revealed Grant's dish - thinking it would be nothing short of a whole cow's head - reminiscent of the disembodied horse head in Godfather II. It wasn't that big, and it was from the correct part of the cow's body - although I recall it was a formidable portion nonetheless and we roared further at such theatrical displays! We still agree that this was one of our best and favorite meals of all time.

Later that night after dinner, desserts and more drinks, MaryBeth drove us back to the hotel where we were staying - where she also happened to be employed as the Associate Director of Convention Services. As we rounded the driveway to the porte chochere in her old Volvo (which she poignantly named "Revolver"), she ran up on the curb with a thud and a scrape - bouncing us all around in our seats - and yet implored us to go have one more drink before going to our rooms. At that, Grant's sensible side took charge and called it a night. Boy those were the days.

I doubt he remembers it, but I recall that Grant and I made a pact all those years ago that if neither of us was married by the time I turned 40, he and I would get married. Surprisingly, despite all the fun we have and the way we get along so great, I'm really not his type. And of course I have my Gary now - so Grant, I hereby release you from the chivalrous gesture of saving me from being a spinster in three years. On second thought, how about we just move it up to when I'm 50?
Love you to pieces. Your Princess.