When a person goes out to dinner, it is usually not just to eat . . . or to get out of doing the dishes. We enjoy a bit of pampering, good service, right? We found a place in Charlevoix, Mich., an "in" place that served nothing but excellent fish dinners. It was located on the shore of Lake Charlevoix right in front of the fish dock. The fish served were whatever fish were caught that day. Once we were met at the hooked screen door with, "The fish boat is not unloaded yet. Come back later!" No "Please", no "Sorry", and no smile. We came back later . . . that was the way of their customers.
The place itself was an old Victorian house with none of the fancy trim we associate with houses of that era. It was the fisherman's former home. Guests came in off a side porch, took a left into the dining/living room. (A right led to the simple old-fashioned kitchen . . . a very ordinary "somebody's kitchen".) The floors were bare wood; tall, narrow windows had no curtains; walls were painted over wallpaper; and a simple fireplace mantel stood naked. However, a piece of fishnet was draped over nails on one wall. An arty touch? The whole house had a decided list to it.
No menu was offered. Patrons got what was served and that depended on what fish were caught that day. Occasionally one struck it lucky and could choose between lake trout and whitefish. You always got a choice of potato . . . and that ended your choices. Also you were served a vegetable, hush-puppies, and a cube of pineapple/carrot/lemon jello that had a distinctly different, delicious flavor. Once I asked what made that different taste. With a cold stare the waitress said, "We do not tell our cooking secrets!" (I had sinned by asking, that was clear.) All the food was the best ever . . . and they knew it.
Once a party of eight came it, sat down, and asked for menus. "We don't have menu. We serve fish dinners." "Fine. We'll have five fish dinners and three hamburgers and fries for the kids." (I flinched for them.) "We don't serve hamburgers here! If that's what you want, go to the hamburger stand." They left. I felt sorry for these unsuspecting souls who did not know the rules of the game.
We heard of this spot through friends as if we were being let in on a local secret . . . there was no advertising . . . just word of mouth. And since paying the check was no concern of mine, it wasn't until years later that I learned that prices there were compatible with the best restaurants in the area. Last time we were in that area, we found the entire house was gone! Probably it just leaned a bit too far one day.
No comments:
Post a Comment