We’d walked past it a couple of times, a simple storefront set back from the street with a small porch, a glimpse of tables inside, unassuming. The Key Lime Cafe. Full at lunch-time, we assumed it was a Maryland version of a diner. We never even ventured up on to the porch....
We walked across the road to Big Al’s Fish Store the first day for lunch and had a fried clam sandwich, we had fancy hotel food at the Perry Cabin and so much soft-shelled crab that Alan spent an afternoon in bed.
We’d moved my son into his dorms at George Washington University in D.C. three days before and driven to Chesapeake Bay to the small town of St. Michael’s, Maryland (birthplace of Frederick Douglass) for a few days of rest. It was hot and we were tired and the plantation style Inn at Perry Cabin was a lovely place to rest.
My roots are in Prague. Not my real hereditary-type roots — they lie somewhere in Lithuania, in some long-forgotten shtetl in the Pale of Settlement.
Like my ancestors before me and their great ancestors before them, I like love food. The members of the Santiago clan aren’t known for being particularly picky about their cuisine. Eat first, ask later (or ask while eating). But eating anything in China is like a blindfolded taste test. The labels are written in Chinese, so I sit and I poke and I prod.
I was 'off to see the queen,' the stewardess lingo we use when
working a London trip. I packed my tall boots, a few jackets and
scarves. I was invited to join a friend from London for dinner with a
small group at the famous old oyster bar "J Sheekey." I was, for once,
concerned about what I would wear as my friend, Tim is a famous London
tailor with a shop on Savile Row as well as shops all over the world.
He dresses David Beckam and Tom Cruise and I certainly did not want to
embarrass myself with some sort of 'get up' from my usual suitcase
wardrobe.
