Saturday evening, 9-ish, after a late breakfast, a late lunch, a lot of administrative work, and slice of afternoon dessert (see above), we find ourselves at the corner Vietnamese restaurant (cuz if you are marrying a 6'2 ft man there will never be a late lunch + dessert that also suffices as dinner) : )
Everything is the same about this place, always. I will order grilled wild shrimps, Ed beef or pork and we will never have to wait. There are people there but not too many. The family running it available but not intrusive, the dishes authentic but not trendy, fresh but not farm-y. The one minute walk there, often an extension of a concentrated day not needing any more accoutrements but the mint leaf garnishes.
On this visit Ed ordered a good Belgian beer which was, within minutes, spilled as our waiter set down dishes. With karate-like reflexes, it was propped back up, the wetness graciously blotted with towels. Not much was lost but a new bottle was brought. A lucky one, perhaps. And just as I thought I'd want more later, my Sauvignon Blanc was, too, refilled with the last of the bottle. Did they know we'd be married in a week, I wondered?