Now that I live in South Durham, I’m roughly equidistant between downtown Durham and downtown Chapel Hill. That means I get to explore the Chapel Hill food scene in the same way that I did Durham’s over the past two years. That exploration started when my family was here in August, but that kicked up a bit this weekend. On Friday for dinner and Saturday for lunch, I went to Chapel Hill restaurants that had been recommended by members of my church small group.
Friday night, I ate at a fancy-ish French brasserie. White-tiled floor; airy space; open kitchen; staff in black. I opted for an early dinner so the place wasn’t loud yet when I arrived and really didn’t get loud even as more guests filed in. I wouldn’t repeat my appetizer choice, but the scallops and cauliflower accompaniment were very good and the brown butter almond cake with strawberries I had for dessert had a nice balance to it. I also had a crisp, dry French cider that was much better than the American offerings that are often far too sweet. There were several items on the menu that I searched for with my phone. Through the power of the internet and enhanced search, I was shown recipes in French. Those weren’t helpful, but my follow-on prompts to translate these into English gave me summaries of the dishes and not just translations of the recipes. That was an algorithm actually producing what I wanted.
Saturday I had lunch at a hamburger joint, the opposite end of the fanciness scale but every bit as good. I went off-menu and ordered my version of a breakfast burger (bacon, egg, and mustard) which led to a mix up with the cashier. Even though I told her no cheese and she confirmed that, they still put cheese on the burger so I had them remake it. This restaurant started as a student hangout, though I went to a different location with more parking. The burger was thick and juicy, not like the smashburgers that so many places serve. The egg was cooked over medium, which is what I like to see as it doesn’t get too messy. And the bacon was good, but that is perhaps the most difficult part to screw up. I went with tater tots for my side, which were unspectacular and which I’ve since been told were a big mistake by someone who loves their French fries. Alas. I also drank a root beer with lunch because I rarely do anything half-heartedly, even nostalgia. Not that the nostalgia lasted that long, though, as I went home and put in a few hours at my computer working that afternoon.
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