We are hosting and everyone begins to arrive for a late lunch festival of Thanksgiving. From all over the state of Texas, relatives are bringing their assigned dishes, making for a great meal. My Dad arrives with fresh-baked pies that his wife Brenda has baked. Carrie catches me alone in the kitchen and says, "I don't think your dad brought in the gravy." I pause for just a moment, and respond, "Well, that's because I forgot to ask him to bring the gravy." Oops. We have to feed more than a dozen people Thanksgiving Dinner in about an hour, and we have no gravy. And it's my fault. Whom do you turn to in a moment like this? Hyde Park Bar and Grill, of course.
We had eaten there with Mom and Jim the night before, so I drove up there, confident that they would come through for us. The same woman who had seated us on Wednesday was hosting on Thanksgiving Day, so I approached her, saying, "Here's my situation." I explained my dilemma, and asked if she could sell me a quart of gravy. Her response could not have been more perfect.
She said, "I can give you some gravy. Wait right here." When she returned, she said simply, "Happy Thanksgiving." I thanked her profusely, as she turned back to her overwhelming holiday duties.
I drove home, eager to tell Carrie how awesome the people at Hyde Park were, knowing that she would not be surprised in the least. Thanksgiving Dinner was perfect, and we had more than enough enough gravy for everyone.
Hyde Park Bar and Grill.
Comfort, Indeed.
Peace,
JS4
2 comments:
One of our favorite places, too. And what a comforting story! Kari & Lloyd
Hyde Park Grill - Source of the best Chicken Fried Steak I ever ate - summer vacation, 2006.
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