As I have done for the past five or so years, save a year or so with Nancy, I headed up to Rodeo Drive to see the annual display of exotic automotive muscle to help my Father's Day pass undetected. As one would expect, there were plenty of little sons and daughters asking their Dads which car they like best and promising that some day soon they would buy the head of the house a four wheel wonder that was even bigger and better than the one he had pointed out. It was overcast. An eclectic mix of the haves and the have nots, everyone walked with small, snail-like steps. We were soon tired of navigating the slow motion herd and headed a block West to a quaint coffee shop on Camdan – a photo on the cover of the menu said EST.1939. It was fun to think about what Beverly Hills must have been like back then.
After lunch we finished the tour of the cars and were soon on our way to Surface to look at food and kitchen ware. I bought some chocolate covered malt balls and a very expensive jar of Truffle Honey. The girl at the cash register asked if I was a Dad and I said yes. "Thought so." she sighed and said I reminded her of her Dad in Ohio and she missed him. I said, "He misses you too."
I was home by 5:00 P.M. I made a grilled peanut butter and Truffle Honey sandwich on rye. It was terrible. Wish I knew more about food.
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