I've been iced in for four days, going on five, now. The ensuing cabin fever has basically put me in a coma from which I awaken only to cook. I've cooked more in the last four days than I have in the preceding six months.
I'm amazed anyone is leaving home in this stuff. We live on a hill in Grant Park and the street is still a solid sheet of ice. I didn't even get to my usual Wednesday slider feast at The Shed!
A good many restaurants have been open. Channel 11 did this piece centered around Miller Union (which, incidentally, recently received a "travel award" from Southern Living magazine as one of the best new restaurants in the South):
A Henderson, Ky., couple told their story of being marooned at an unidentified Buckhead restaurant to their hometown newspaper:
“We had a great dinner,” Jennifer Keach said. “We looked out the window and saw snow, so we ordered dessert and called the cab. Just in the time it took us to eat dessert, 3 1/2 or 4 inches of snow had fallen, and he said, ‘I’m not coming back out there to get you.’ We called several taxi companies, and none would come get us.”
The winter paralysis of Atlanta was beginning.
“We thought we were going to have to spend the night in the restaurant,” she said. “The waiter and the manager were getting irate. Finally they put us in one of their cars and drove us to the MARTA (Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority) station a mile and a half away,” where they caught a commuter train back to their hotel.
Does CL need food writers?
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