Some of the best restaurants are those with an established reputation, rich with history and family and values. No fancy signs or marketing or decor. The reputation speaks for itself. They don't need to prove themselves to anyone or "buy" people's business. The loyalty of the local patrons is the secret to their long-standing acclaim and success.
The Union Grill.
Why we're just now learning about this awesome place, I have no idea. Maybe we just haven't done our homework.
We ate there after the football game on Saturday. My son's girlfriend joined us, driving down for the day from her home about 45 mins away. She brought with her an entire box of homemade
biscotti --
she's Italian and the girl loves to cook and she KNOWS her stuff -- of various flavors: pumpkin, cranberry, almond, and even Pretzel M&M biscotti (for me!). How thoughtful! And SO delicious.
I digress.
She and G had eaten at this restaurant before and were very complimentary of its reputation for flavor and freshness and fun atmosphere. Very laid back, unpretentious, casual. The SMELLS of fresh Italian entrees filled the air as soon as we walked in. After much debating, I ordered the grilled salmon Caesar salad off their "old favorites" section of the menu; that category won me over. It was so fresh and flavorful. We shared Fried Calamari and Hot Stuffed Banana Peppers for appetizers, and I sampled each of them. Oh, yes. We'll be back. Put our names on the list in pen.
It turned out to be a wonderful, memorable day...Senior Day...the parents lining up with their senior players, walking arm in arm out onto center field at the beginning of the game for special recognition. Each of the mothers was given a red rose to wear on their lapels. This was a proud and very emotional time for the family of the young senior running back who was recently killed -- emotional for most of us, actually. As his name was called, his mother, father and younger brother proceeded across the field in his honor as the announcer commemorated the last four years of his life as a student athlete. The crowd roared with applause at the same moment his father released several red, black and white balloons into the sky. The crowd cheered even harder as we watched the balloons float upward to heaven. I choked back the tears, not so successfully, as I stood their clinging to my son's arm with pride, thinking of how proud I was of all that he had accomplished all these years as an athlete, and how grateful I was to be standing there with him to experience this moment.
We won the game. What a sweet victory. And following the lineup of handshakes to their opponents, our team huddled for a moment, bursting with pride and renewed team spirit as they later broke out into chanting. They cheered in animated unison with deafening volume, celebrating their brotherhood, their team, their family, their unified spirit, their fallen teammate -- This one was for you, Tim!
The sun was shining that day. Tim's spirit was all about, serving to galvanize the team's love and allegiance to him all throughout the game. I was climbing over people left and right, as I made my way down the bleachers in the direction of where his mother had sat throughout the game. I wanted to hug her, to offer my condolences and respect to her, a small attempt on my part to hopefully help comfort and heal her broken heart. The pride on that woman's face ... I will never forget it. It sent chills down my spine. What a fine woman and mother, so brave, the love of a mother for her son, unconditional and undying love ... everlasting and eternal devotion that would remain constant and unending.
I don't know how the day could have turned out any better. A day of devotion, recognition, remembrance, pride, competition, victory, love, family, laughter, and good food. Life is to be celebrated. And celebrate we did.
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