As I'm sure you've read by now, the LA area has more fires. Lots more. When I got my paper this morning the ground was covered with a film of ash and the air smelled like cigarettes. The sun's now filtered orange through a thick sky.
What makes these fires worse than the ones last month is that they are in populated areas, as opposed to remote canyons. They've been burning everything from over-the-top expensive houses south of Santa Barbara, to middle class housing tracks in Orange County to mobile home parks in north LA. It's bad.
Fortunately, the winds have died down so the firefighters should have the chanced to get a handle on them today. But, it's still going to be hot and windy. They've got a battle on their hands.
With this as a backdrop, the wife and went to the dinner at Spago last night. We rode with my parents, so we were able to chat with them about their 50th anniversary, which is next August and do some planning for it.
At the party, we saw some of my dad's cousins from Philly (very east coast snobby). When I worked for my uncle one summer, I used to stay at one of the cousins' house on some weekends (he had daughters about my age), so it was great to see him and his second wife (the first died several years ago).
The food was great. We had crab cakes (even my wife had some--only the 3rd time I've seen seafood cross her lips), tuna tartar and fancy pizza as appetizers (with some scotch from the open bar). I had butternut squash soup and bass in an awesome sauce. She had a layered beet/cheese and short ribs on polenta. I was sad when I had to poop this morning.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment