Bonding over Gravy
One of my favorite things to do is cook. I enjoy feeding my friends and family members when I can. The majority of them like to eat what I cook which makes me happy.
When Brian and I lived in Dawson, Minnesota I learned rather quickly that there was a great big difference in the way food was prepared there compared to Italy, Texas. I am not saying that was a bad thing – it just made it kinda rough on me working in restaurants there.
While I was working my first Wednesday night as a waitress at G. R. Annie’s Restaurant, a very nice older gentleman came in to eat. He was my only customer, so we struck up a conversation before he ordered.
“Young lady, your accent gives you away,” he said politely. “I’ll bet that is a Texas accent.”
“Yes sir,” I said proudly.
“Well I only have one questions for you,” he added. “Do you by chance know how to make that white gravy they have down there?”
I smiled and told him I did. He then asked me if I would be willing to make some to go on the home fries he wanted to order.
Since there was no one else in the restaurant, I went to the kitchen, turned in his order and quickly made the gravy while his fries were cooking.
I watched him spoon the gravy on top of his fries. I tried not to stare as he enjoyed every bite of his fries and gravy. When he finished, he thanked me for going out of my way to make him a special meal. He told me how delicious the gravy was.
The restaurant was getting busy so I did not notice the note and tip he left until he was driving away from the restaurant. There on the table was a $10 bill with a note that said, “You have made me smile. My wife was from Texas and used to make me white gravy. I have not had any since she died about 15 years ago. Thank you so much. See you next Wednesday.”
I stood there trying not to cry. I thanked God that my mom had taught me how to make the gravy so I could bless that sweet gentleman.
Every Wednesday, I came to work just a little early so I would have time to make the gravy that I knew he would ask for. And every Wednesday night he and I would talk about my home state that I missed so much and his wife that he missed so much. He was very sad when I told him we were moving back to Texas. I think he was gonna miss our Wednesday night sessions as much as he was going to miss the gravy. Sometimes I think God puts us in a certain place for a certain reason. This was one of those times I know he did. The end for now.