3,000 Miles on a Whim

During a meeting with my boss just before we left Auburn for Florida, he suggested we go to Savannah. “Why?” “It’s just cool.” Historically, suggestions like this haven’t turned out well for me... one man’s cool is another woman’s meh, or their exact people-place-event experience just can’t be replicated.

Happily, that was not the case with Savannah.

We had no expectations as we crossed Georgia and my only research was for a hotel in the middle of town, ideally in a historical building (not a chain) to get some local flavor. Walking around the block to the Kehoe House (https://www.kehoehouse.com), I was immediately taken aback by the architecture, landscaping, and an overall sense of order and calm.

The front of the hotel faced a lovely little park/square and couldn’t have been more quaint. After settling in, we headed down to take advantage of their happy hour. I was expecting the typical half glass of terrible wine, maybe some mixed nuts and dry pretzels like pretty much every other lame hotel-sponsored even of its kind.

Oh no. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.

The lovely young gentlemen behind the desk asked which wine we’d like (of 3 whites, 2 reds, and a rosé), to please sit wherever we’d like, and he’d be right out with our drinks. We sat in the “double parlor” and took in the period furnishings and general comfortable grandeur of the space, like an aging supermodel who, albeit stunning in her prime, has happily settled into her latter years with grace.

Out came a tray holding our beverages and a few hors d’oeuvres prepared by the chef. Beautiful little bites of I can’t remember what now, only that they were perfect for the time and place. The wine was decent, refills were plentiful, and the young man provided information about the house, the city, and nearby restaurants. It was a lovely introduction to Savannah hospitality.

Off we went into the night for dinner at Treylor Park, a play on the owner’s name, where the space was like every other hipster restaurant of our time—this one Airstream themed but still had the requisite uncomfortable chairs— and the food tried too hard to be trendy.

Donny’s “Treylor Park Pot Pie” attempted to be a pot pie-chimichanga fusion, but only managed to be a weird glob of pot pie-flavored cheese wrapped in a too-thick tortilla and fried. My ahi salad was perfectly fine, and pretty much the only keto-friendly item on the menu. (Why did I decide to give up carbs just before visiting the South?!🤷‍♀️)Baca lagi