Traveler Food and Books
We are back after a fun-filled weekend. I am happy to report that LG was extremely well-behaved (as long as nobody counts the Incident About Getting Dressed this morning). It probably helped that he got to meet one of his favorite imaginary creations in the whole universe:
He had an awesome time, and I highly recommend it to any other parent whose child is similarly afflicted by a deep and possibly illegal love of Thomas the Frickin' Tank Engine. Bring along someone who likes to spoil your kid rotten, and everyone will go home happy.
On our way home we stopped at one of the most underappreciated gems in southern New England, Traveler Food and Books. If you've never had the pleasure of stopping in the little dot of nowhere otherwise known as Union, Connecticut, pack the kids in the car and start driving! At the last Connecticut exit of I-84, you will find a home-like green building with a bright yellow roof. Inside is exactly what the sign advertises: travelers, food, and books.
The gimmick here is that you get a FREE used book with your meal. FREE BOOKS, people. I have a feeling that I am not the only person in this corner of the blogosphere who begins to salivate just reading the phrase "free books."
In years past, when I've had an opportunity to stop there, I've found little to eat except grilled cheese. But I'm now happy to report that they have two vegetarian dishes on the menu now: a portobello mushroom entree (I'm allergic to mushrooms, but I'm sure it was tasty), and a gardenburger entree, which was, oddly enough, delicious. LG had a big plate of spaghetti with cheese, which he consumed in great big smears of tomato-sauce-encrusted delight. Baby Blue ate a few yummy sweet potato fries, and greeted each and every patron of the restaurant as they made their way to the restroom.
The best part of the meal, of course -- even better than the strawberry sundae I had for dessert! -- was getting to case the bookshelves all over the restaurant for that one special serendipitous book to bring home with me. The winner was Richard Rhodes's memoir, A Hole in the World. It was so immediately absorbing that I was disappointed to discover that I have lost my childhood ability to read comfortably in a car. It seemed almost worth provoking nausea. Almost.
I am a sucker for any kind of personal narrative. Memoirs and travel literature are my favorites, but I'll read almost anything that gives a glimpse into the life of the author: environmental portraits in which the eye of the observer is part of the story, works of journalism and social science in which the journey of the researcher is part of the story. I love to read a person making sense of himself or herself in the context of lived experience. I love to read the author as subject; biographies, where the author takes as an object someone else's life, don't satisfy the same hunger in me. Anyone else suffer from the same reading preferences?
He had an awesome time, and I highly recommend it to any other parent whose child is similarly afflicted by a deep and possibly illegal love of Thomas the Frickin' Tank Engine. Bring along someone who likes to spoil your kid rotten, and everyone will go home happy.
On our way home we stopped at one of the most underappreciated gems in southern New England, Traveler Food and Books. If you've never had the pleasure of stopping in the little dot of nowhere otherwise known as Union, Connecticut, pack the kids in the car and start driving! At the last Connecticut exit of I-84, you will find a home-like green building with a bright yellow roof. Inside is exactly what the sign advertises: travelers, food, and books.
The gimmick here is that you get a FREE used book with your meal. FREE BOOKS, people. I have a feeling that I am not the only person in this corner of the blogosphere who begins to salivate just reading the phrase "free books."
In years past, when I've had an opportunity to stop there, I've found little to eat except grilled cheese. But I'm now happy to report that they have two vegetarian dishes on the menu now: a portobello mushroom entree (I'm allergic to mushrooms, but I'm sure it was tasty), and a gardenburger entree, which was, oddly enough, delicious. LG had a big plate of spaghetti with cheese, which he consumed in great big smears of tomato-sauce-encrusted delight. Baby Blue ate a few yummy sweet potato fries, and greeted each and every patron of the restaurant as they made their way to the restroom.
The best part of the meal, of course -- even better than the strawberry sundae I had for dessert! -- was getting to case the bookshelves all over the restaurant for that one special serendipitous book to bring home with me. The winner was Richard Rhodes's memoir, A Hole in the World. It was so immediately absorbing that I was disappointed to discover that I have lost my childhood ability to read comfortably in a car. It seemed almost worth provoking nausea. Almost.
I am a sucker for any kind of personal narrative. Memoirs and travel literature are my favorites, but I'll read almost anything that gives a glimpse into the life of the author: environmental portraits in which the eye of the observer is part of the story, works of journalism and social science in which the journey of the researcher is part of the story. I love to read a person making sense of himself or herself in the context of lived experience. I love to read the author as subject; biographies, where the author takes as an object someone else's life, don't satisfy the same hunger in me. Anyone else suffer from the same reading preferences?
posted by Phantom Scribbler at 8:58 PM 
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