the new roof is covered with dark green shingles, and just looking at it today made me incredibly happy. I love ruth's, and am eagerly awaiting it's reopening after the structural revisions are complete.
how is it that our favorite places come to be our favorite places?
it must be due to past events and the memories they bring, or the remembrance of sensual pleasures experienced. or . . . is there some other secret formula that imbeds these feelings into our hearts and minds?
I have loved ruth's for as long as I can remember, and these are possible reasons why:
- the outdoor patio.
- the classmate of mine in college who worked there, an always cheerful, engaging person.
- the relaxed feeling of having sunday brunch with few cares, as some one was taking care of me and I was far away from any possible work that needed to be done.
- bloody marys on the back patio.
- the cozy cable car feeling of the front room.
- the best biscuits on earth, served with indescribably yummy raspberry jam.
- killer enchiladas.
- amazing huevos rancheros.
- the outdoor patio.
- the live music, always offered by laid-back musicians who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
- a sense of relaxation that just hovers over the environment, whether or not there is an hour wait for a table.
- the best biscuits on earth.
- a lack of pretentiousness.
- did I mention the outdoor patio? especially in the spring when it's still a little cool, and those cool tall heat lamps warm the air just enough to make you appreciate them, yet you revel in the tingle of the cool air.
I don't go to ruth's that often, and could probably even tick entire years off my life-calendar when I didn't go to ruth's. but it is a part of my history (and I think the biscuits most likely are a forever part of my thighs), and if I have my way, it will forever be a part of my future.
I'll let you know when it reopens, and maybe we'll bump into each other there.
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