If any of you have spent much time around either of us, this installment of our breakfast medications might well seem the most characteristic. Literally before I even got in George’s car, I began nerding out on Columbia’s upcoming Dismal Niche Festival and didn’t stop until we pulled into Bleu‘s parking lot. Along the way, George almost crossed the double yellow line thrice, either because I was so effectively enthralling him with my banter about music from the Sahel that he couldn’t concentrate or because he is a terrifying driver. At any rate, I sold at least one ticket, Matthew!

Upon arriving a few minutes before the restaurant opened, we noted we were both wearing the same color cargo shorts. Once the restaurant opened, the absence of other diners somehow made it difficult for us to choose from among ALL the available seats, and when we finally grabbed a table, I sat next to George rather than across from him (???). Then after I clearly stated what I wanted (eggs Benedict–wait, do I capitalize both words?), Frissell violated one of our few rules and decided to order the same thing, forcing me to order beef hash that was distinctly not corned. He also ordered a side of four pieces of bacon (“very, very, VERY crispy”–I’ve never heard him triple up on it before) and told me I’d be eating two of those. Fine.

We proceeded to revisit “Hickman Tales from The Dark Side” and our respective student teaching experiences, pondered the origins of the phrases “knocked up” and “ass jack” (scroll down to the second definition), cleaned our plates–then, thorns amongst the roses, realized our setting was more posh than that to which we are best fitted. Bleu–note spelling–is the anti-JJ’s, which we should have realized by the presence of avocados on the menu. Something had seemed afoot, and that apparently was it. Posh we not. Excuse me, are not. However, the food was quite good, the service was very, VERY, VERY crispy, and at least we were not brunching (I believe those are illegal in the country of Texas, anyway). Rating? 8 (food 9, plus environment 7, divided by us 2).

We forgot to take a picture. I think we were both a shade fogged over.

See you in two weeks. George is going to Chicago where he is–apparently–going to be engaging in athletic activities with his young relatives. Have you seen this guy move lately?