You were expecting great political insight?

http://www.wusa9.com/video/default.aspx?bctid=1863004380001

As Linda Elerbee always says: "And so it goes."

We'll try not to let celebrity go to our heads*

WUSA TV's Bruce Leshan, Chamber of Commerce Executive Officer Melanie Milliken and the WUSA TV cameraman who was strangely interested in sandwich-making technique. Oh...and Wyckedly Good Cupcakes!

I'm told we can expect more days like this. When your business is in a town called "Romney" in an elections year with a candidate of the same name, the media is bound to sooner or later take notice.

It started quietly enough -- a reporter from a Pittsburgh paper spent a few days here at the cafe, interviewing various citizens and soaking in the atmosphere. This resulted in this literary quote: "...at the Courthouse Corner Cafe." What poetry!

So yesterday it was WUSA TV out of Washington, D.C., who sent reporter Bruce Leshan and a cameraman (sorry, cameraman...no one got your name...) to cover...um...the opinions of ... people who live in a town with the same name as a presidential candidate...I guess...

Okay, yeah. One of those pseudo-political fluff pieces. They visited both Democrats' and Republicans' campaign headquarters. They asked our opinion on the election but we, of course have no opinion. I'll pour coffee for socialists, tea partiers, Pilgrims or Hugenots. I'll make a panini for Libertarians, Albanians or Moonies. I'll make paninis for Libertarian Albanian Moonies.

So, if you happen to live in the Washington, D.C., area and you happen to be tuned to WUSA Channel 9 between 5 and 7:30 p.m., you may (or may not...) see me making a panini to any Libertarian Abanian Moony who might want one.**

*or to employ that tired Andy Warhol quote about 15 seconds of fame.

**I'm told you can see the piece on their website after 7:30 p.m.

Just another Sunday afternoon...until...

So here's the scenario: It's 4 p.m. on a Sunday and I'm exhausted.

Happily, Sundays are the closest thing we get to a day off because we close at 3 p.m. instead of 7:30 p.m. Unhappily, after closing we not only have to pick up a few things for the week to come, but I have to perfect a recipe that will be a special this week.

Before you can appreciate my point here, though, I must impress upon you, dear reader, the level of my exhaustion. I describe this not to exact pity, but to drive home the fact that all I really wanted to do with my 3-1/2 hours off was put my feet up (yes, it's always about my feet), turn on a black and white movie and doze on and off while Jimmy Stewart assured me that I had a choice between being "oh so smart and oh so pleasant."

But first there was a matter of chicken and dumplings.

It's not that I've never made chicken and dumplings; it's that I've never made chicken and dumplings for the cafe. But my old standby of dumplings were not going to work for the cafe. Besides, a long time ago I promised one of my sons that I'd master the type of dumpling sold at Cracker Barrel, a less delicate incarnation of its biscuit-like cousin.

So there I am, rolling out dough and feeling rather sorry for myself because I was quite sure the rest of the world, having enjoyed a hearty Sunday dinner, was curled up on the couch napping while I'm relegated to cooking yet another chicken dish that I wasn't even particularly excited about eating.

Dumplings done, chicken roasted and now I bring chicken broth to a boil. And, because I don't work at Cracker Barrel, I decided to give my broth some flavor. Salt and pepper, of course -- ho, hum...but when that rosemary hit the hot broth...holy cow! Suddenly there was nothing -- nothing -- I wanted more than that bowl of chicken and dumplings -- not my much-anticipated lie-down, not a day off, not even a martini.

My entire afternoon was transformed by the simple marrying of rosemary and chicken broth. I know, I know -- most people would say that is totally indicative of how pathetic my life is. I totally disagree; it's yet another example of the transforming abilities of cooking from scratch. Heating up a Lean Cuisine Rosemary Chicken would not have had the same effect. Nor would it have afforded me the pleasure of that magic moment when thin broth morphs into a velvety, fragrant gravy with the addition of a simple beurre manie'. Soon the kitchen filled with dogs and cats and, ultimately, a husband, all following their noses to the source of the heady vapor. (You know that famous C.S. Lewis quote about "we read to know we are not alone?" I cook for the same reason.)

But I go on...

It's just chicken and dumplings, right?

Oh, the agony!

If our customers only knew the distress and panic the kitchen manager (okay...me) goes through for their sake...

If you've been paying attention to our ads and postings on Facebook, you've probably noticed that not only are we open later in the evenings Monday through Saturday, but that we are also offering dinner specials.

You see, I've been cooking dinner for 47 years now. For 46 of those years, the recipients of my food were under an obligation to enjoy what I put in front of them. As an 8-year-old I probably conjured up some pretty bizarre dishes, but my family was either too hungry or too polite to turn anything down. As a wife and mother I did focus on improving my skills but, frankly, whether or not I succeeded, my husband and sons knew the wisdom of not biting the hand that fed them. There were no complaints and even occasional compliments, usually triggered by the need for cash or the car keys.

Now, though, I am asking people to go out of their way, come to this cafe, and put down their hard-earned money to eat something I cooked. And not just soups and sandwiches for lunch; this is dinner, the big kahuna of the meal trifecta.

It's a wonder I sleep at night.

Not to say, I wasn't worried when we first opened and people started ordering soups that I had made. Everyone has very specific ideas about how those old standbys -- chicken noodle, tomato, minestrone, etc. -- should taste and for awhile my anxiety level spiked until the customer checked out without complaining. (That's right -- it doesn't take much validation for me to be happy. Just knowing my food wasn't gaggingly horrible is enough.)

Dinner, though. Dinner. People look forward to dinner. A good dinner is bliss. A bad dinner can screw up an otherwise okay day. You think that kind of responsibility is easy?

So this has been a challenging week for me and everyone who knows me (you don't think I'm going to keep my suffering to myself, do you?). We're featuring quite a few new dishes this week and next, but also a few old favorites. You really should stop in and everyone else in the cafe will be happy and carefree.

I'll only look like I'm in agony until you leave...

September Open Mic Night

Okay...so a little late with this post. Things have been hoppin' at the cafe with the change (or upcoming change) of seasons.

September's Open Mic Night seemed to kick off an exciting month for us here. We've been happily busy and that busy-ness has triggered our creativity. We've got a lot planned...

First, though, September's Open Mic Night, kicked off, as tradition dictates, by Charley and something about Wichita.

Ken Riggleman of Fort Ashby backed by the Courthouse Corner Cafe House Band (Mike Anderson on bass and Art Eckerson on drums)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peggy Osman of Green Spring sings "I Fall To Pieces"

Anton Daub of Keyport, NJ, (soon to be of Romney!)

Eden Kelly of Strasburg, Va., backed by Rory Hanon of Stephens City, Va.

Riveted audience members

We were so happy to see this event catch on and  look forward to both familiar faces and new acts next Open Mic Night on Saturday, October 6!