My husband and I went out for dinner on Saturday night to Hometown Roots in Henderson, Kentucky. This restaurant doesn’t open till 4 PM every day, and since the food there is actually delectable, it gets so busy so fast. Needless to say, we like to get there when it opens. We were heading out when Hubs noticed my gas tank was low. I had forgotten to tell him because I like to get it to just where I don’t know if I can make it down the road before I ask if he can fill it up. I don’t know what type of man doesn’t let his wife lift a finger, but that’s the kind I’ve been blessed with. Don’t worry, girls, I do know how to pump my own gas and change my tire if I need to, but the thing is, I don’t need to.
What is it that men can make friends anywhere they go? Hubs and I pull up to the gas pump, where another man is at the pump next to ours. I stay inside the SUV. Hubs gets out, and they say hello to each other, exchange formalities, they go about their business, and then the man goes inside. He walks out a few moments later, back to his car, then begins chatting up my husband’s Buck knife. The one y’all always ask me about. The one he carries with him everywhere. Well, that opens up the floodgates because they get to talking about guns and what they carry; About how living in Kentucky, we all carry, that’s why people don’t mess around out here. Which then leads to politics. Talking to complete strangers about political views out on the streets. Excuse me. We are so bold. They exchange a few laughs and chuckles, and they both get in their cars. He puts on his seatbelt and says, “He was a nice young man.” I say, “You’re always making friends wherever you go, honey.” He replies, “You can never have too many friends.“
We find parking across the street from the restaurant about an hour after they open, and there is already a line. I hope the wait isn’t too long because I was craving something off their dessert menu. The weather was spectacular this weekend. It finally got up to the high 70’s, and I was loving it. I was hoping to sit outside, but they hadn’t set out the patio furniture yet. As we walked up to the restaurant, I could see through the windows that it was indeed full. Every seat in the restaurant’s foyer/lobby was taken as we walked to the front desk. We were told there was a 20-30 minute wait. I didn’t mind at all since it was warm and sunny outside with a light breeze. My type of weather conditions. I made my way towards the exit with Hubs right behind me.
As I stepped outside, I heard someone call out Hubs’ name. I turned around and saw the door close behind me. This isn’t new. This happens to us a lot. You would think it’s because we live in a small town where everyone knows everyone. You might say it’s because of his family roots, but this has always been the case for us since we lived in DC. My husband loves to make friends, and he can always find a friend in the crowd, or they will find him. At the beginning, I would make it a point to stand by his side and share in the conversations, because, well, it’s the polite thing to do. Manners are manners, but after 10 years, y’all, my reserved nature sometimes just wants to be a fly on the wall. Who am I kidding? I still stand by his side because we’re a team, but inside I am dying hahahaha.
Hubs comes out wide-eyed and a smirk playing on his lips. His body language is pretending as he begins whispering. So I intuitively play off of his actions. We’re both smiling and touching each other like we’re talking about the weather.
He says, “I have no idea who that man is. He called me Jay, but I can’t place him.”
“Hmm“, I say, “well, what does he look like? “
“He’s older, like 50’s, has a beard, white, but his hair is brown with some ash. His wife said hello to me as well. But I don’t recognize her either. “
I begin naming random people off our Facebook friend list. He says maybe to a few.
“They look like city folk, not country folk.” As someone who has lived here for so long, I get the sentiment. I try to sneak a peek at him and his wife, but I do not recognize either of them.
“I’ll have a dirty gin martini,” I say to the waitress. I always order an old-fashioned, but I was curious to see if they could make a mean DIRTY martini. Hubs follows up with, “And I’ll have a gin and tonic, tall, with lime.” His usual order.
“Maybe we know him from church or Bible study?” He says as he cuts into the sweet cornbread casserole.
“No, definitely not bible study.” I bite into a piece of cornbread. So good, moist, and warm. Sweet and crumbly, with a salted butter dollop that adds balance. I take another bite and ask him, “Why don’t you just ask him his name?”
“No, can’t do that. Where do I know him from? He called me Jay. So familiar, like we know each other well,” he said more to himself.
The cocktails finally arrive. The glassware, 10/10. Hubs G&T: 8/10. My dirty martini: 5/10. Their olives were bitter, so the brine may have been bitter, resulting in a bitter martini. Don’t know what that was about. Womp womp.
I wanted to order something new, so I ordered the rosemary pesto chicken with sweet potatoes and brussels off their seasonal menu. Hubs didn’t know what to order, so I suggested the pork chop with red pepper bacon marmalade since it was one of the few things on the menu he hadn’t tried yet. We were both happy with our selection. The chicken dish was 8/10, but not because it lacked flavor. The flavor profile was there, but the portion size was underwhelming. It was ONE smallish chicken thigh on the plate. Hub’s pork chop was probably one of the best I have ever had, but take that with a grain of salt because I don’t eat a lot of pork. Hubs does, though, and he would totally get it again.
“It’ll be midnight, and you’ll wake up in a sweat, screaming I know who that man is!” I joked with him, “Like in the movies.”
“I know, right?” he chuckled. “This is going to bother me.”
Dessert was the chess bar, which I chose because I had gotten it a few months ago, and I was blown away. To me, it has the texture of egg pie but is so much sweeter. The description says it’s a classic vanilla shortbread crust drizzled with vanilla glaze. Hubs had their banana pudding, which apparently is their top seller. The chess bar was an 8/10. I had it with a fresh cup of their black coffee. The banana pudding was 7/10. Hubs didn’t finish it. Service 10/10.
“Maybe you didn’t know him. Maybe he knew of you. Or maybe you’ve only met him once, really fast, through someone else. It’ll come to you.” I said, opening the door and stepping out to the warm early evening.
“Mmm,” he nodded as he grabbed my hand and we crossed the street to our car.
