Basement smells & fireworks

A July 3rd recap

When Rachel came home for FOJ weekend, she brought her boyfriend Noah along for the trip. Dressed in one of his best Pendleton flannels, Noah went right in for a hug the moment we met; in my book, that's the sign of a good egg. 

Adam and I met our New York friends at Comet Cafe. Comet is Rachel's go-to eatery in Milwaukee for its vegan options and tasty treats. While I've only ever had delicious food at Comet Cafe, this time there was a hiccup. One bite into his Vegan Salisbury Steak and a bewildered look crossed Noah's face. "This tastes like mold," he said. "It tastes like how a basement smells." Confused and concerned though we all were, we couldn't help but crack up. What a colorful description! 

We urged Noah to send his dinner back. Nobody wants to be that person, but how do you eat something that tastes like a basement? He humbly and apologetically relayed his opinion to our waitress, who later told us that there is, in fact, Irish moss in the vegan steak patty, and Noah wasn't the first to pick up on it. I just scratched my head all the more at the whole idea of vegan meat. But to each their own!

By the time we'd eaten our fill and heard all of Noah's best stories about his sensual experience at Sleep No More and his hitch hiking adventure in the boonies of southern France, we walked out onto the street to the boom of July 3rd fireworks. We could see their light reflecting off the surrounding buildings and made our way to Lafayette Hill for a better view. We "ooh"-ed and "aah"-ed and loudly vocalized that most patriotic of orchestral numbers: "Three Cheers for the Red, White, and Blue."