Lemonade and Fried Green Tomatoes

I had a late morning date to play Edward Elgar’s Chanson de Nuit with my cellist friend Chris, who lives just opposite DC’s Eastern Market.  I worried about parking because Saturday is a busy day at the market, but a space nearby suddenly materialized.

It was pretty good for a first run-through of the piece we will play for the piano group a week from tomorrow.  As we played his wire-haired terrier listened attentively with one eye out the front window to check out who was passing by.  The front door slammed open and shut a few times as his young son and a neighbor girl prepared to set up a lemonade stand.  After 45 minutes or so, we decided we had made as much progress as we could in one session.

I headed up the street and was instantly accosted by two young boys hawking lemonade as Chris’s son was returning home for a refill.  Only 50 cents they said.  As I offered a dollar to the young dark-haired girl, she asked without a smile, “Do you want change?”  An older boy of perhaps 11 immediately assured her that I did.  As I saw her fishing through a cloth bag of coins, I realized most of them were pennies, so I asked for only a quarter, telling her she could keep the rest as a (50%) tip.

I couldn’t pass up the chance to have a crab cake for lunch, so I got in line at the popular restaurant The Market Lunch, which does a booming business in pancakes until 12 noon and then crab cakes take over.  They were short-handed so it was a long wait, but well worth it when I bit into that mostly crab cake with the cocktail sauce.  

But I had also been persuaded to get a side of fried green tomatoes, something I had always wanted to try.  They came with a pink sauce that was just about perfect. 

After music, lemonade, and my deep-fried lunch, I headed home and a nap seemed like a great idea.