I’m an old cow hand
We went out last night to see this band in a dive bar in Clayton. I’ve only lived here since 1962, but this was the first time I’d ever been in Clayton.
Everything has a story, of course, and the story here is that the steel guitar player is Jim Hussey, the son of our friends Bob and Ruth Hussey. Even when your “kid” is 62 years old, you still go out to support him.
First, we had to have dinner. There were 8 of us, stuffed into a niche around a table for 6 at Moresei’s Chophouse in beautiful downtown Clayton.
Moresi’s has a pretty decent menu, featuring lots of big chunks of meat, and some fairly upscale variations like escargot on the appetizer side. The food isn’t seriously gourmet, but it’s hearty and well prepared.
We were shunted to this tiny space because the main dining room was filled with a very large, and loud, party. My chair, at the end of the table, was directly under the air conditioning vent. I’m the guy who is never cold, and I had to borrow a bright red scarf from Robin to block the river of frigid air that was pouring down my neck.
We both started with the French Onion soup, which was quite acceptable. Then Gail had the chili:
The cynic in me says restaurants offer chili so they have something to do with the prime rib that didn’t sell yesterday. Gail wasn’t much fond of her dinner, she mostly just ate the chunks of beef and pronounced the entire thing pedestrian.
I had the seared Ahi on asparagus risotto:
I certainly liked my Ahi, which was a perfect piece of fish properly cooked. People order fish because it is lower in fat and cholesterol, so I didn’t much understand why they would top the serving with butter, but I just pushed it off to the side. The asparagus risotto was very good, but an awfully heavy accompaniment to what is usually a relatively light meal.
Bill had the best looking meal of the evening–a full rack of tasty ribs. He cleaned off each of the bones surgically–there were no leftovers. I think that makes the ribs my recommendation if you go to Moresi’s.
Service was excellent, to the point that I stopped on the way out and complimented the owner on how well trained his staff was.
After the meal, we strolled across the street to the Clayton Club, a pretty old fashioned cowboy bar. How old fashioned? Trying to order a white wine for Gail, I asked what they had. The answer was “red, white and pink”. I chose white. He reached into the cooler, found a 6 ounce bottle of Sutter Home, unscrewed the cap and poured it into a glass.
How cowboy was it?
The ceiling of the Clayton Club is decorated with pairs of cowboy boots, and a few bits of lingerie. Some bars give free drinks to women willing to take off their bras in public and hang them up–I have no idea what the story behind the boots is. I’d favor more bras.
Then the music started:
Not everyone who plays in a band is trying to make a living at it. Jim Hussey is president of the family HVAC (heating, ventilation and air conditioning) company. The Governor just appointed him to the Council on Apprenticeship. He’s a big shot in his industry, just plays in a band for the fun of it.
There are other band members, too.
The crowd was mostly younger. I took one photo just because I like the way this woman looks.
The bar was happy and full of energy. Here are our friends Robin and Jeannie:
The music was just what I like–old fashioned country that I knew all the words too. The music was all on-key, and most of the singing. Even the old farts like me were on the dance floor.
We had a great time. Dinner was acceptable, the music was fun and my knee didn’t collapse. What more can you ask for?