Thank you, Britta!
Most if not all of us take the simple, wonderful things in life for granted. I have proof: when was the last time you cherished every minute of breakfast? After dad and I got out of the hospital today, the first thing we did was go to dad's favorite place... Britta's Cafe.
For those of you not in the know, Britta's is one of those few places where service still rules and the food is excellent. My wife Motomi and I took dad there a couple months ago for Sunday Brunch.. dad simply loved it... we had no idea then that we had started a family tradition. One dish in particular really stands out for dad with his medication-restricted tastebuds: Britta's French Toast. It's not just a breakfast.. it's about 30 minutes of pure bliss for dad in a day filled with countless challenges and often much pain.
After being released from the hospital this morning, dad and I arrived at Britta's today at 2PM, three hours past the end of breakfast and the french toast on the menu. It was nearly empty following lunchtime.. Britta and our waitress were in the back near the kitchen. Our waitress seated us. Dad said something to the effect of "I know it's late, but can you possible still..." and the waitress gently interjected, "Britta saw you walk in, and she wanted me to tell you that the kitchen will make you the French Toast." Dad looked up at our waitress with the widest smile, looking almost like he was going to cry.
The rest of the meal was great. Pam, Greg & Margie joined us, and I'm so glad we had this time together to enjoy a moment after a trying week.
Something as simple as a French Toast breakfast could certainly have fallen outside the bounds of 'daily business operations'. But it didn't today. Thank you, Britta, for your part in making this day beautiful.
posted by James C. at 1:51 AM
2 Comments:
Many years ago, Greg played guitar at the Cafe Tahiti on Coast Highway in Newport Beach. It was one of those tiny places with maybe a dozen tables, and you could hear the Tahitian-born cook Francis hollering out in South Seas exclamations as he banged pans and made his magic in the kitchen. The second time we came in to hear the Meistro play and enjoy the wondrful and exotic cuisine, the chef/owner's wife, Robin, seated us and said, "When you called in your reservation earlier I put on ice another bottle of that Piesporter you liked last time. I'll be right back with it." And so the Cafe Tahiti ritual was born. And to this day when Coleman plays that Luis Bonfa piece (about a carnival? a black orchid? help me here, guys), we salivate for Coquille St. Jacques, served in a big scallop shell.
Margie Mirken
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