Three Forks, One Pie
After sleeping off her Camp Pali hangover, Lauren joined her despondent parents who were still calculating the cost of one expensive night in the RV.
I hoofed it to an Apple store with my laptop to use their charger because when I grabbed our things out of the broken down van, I foolishly left ours behind. So we rationed our technology use or squinted at our phones trying to find repair shops, an attempt to improve our chances in case the well manicured mechanics at Autobahn turned us away. We didn't have a great feeling about that place.
That night we had dinner at Izzy’s, and a guy named Edwin bought me a piece of pie. Let me just tell you: Gary and Lauren are formidable competitors with a fork. You can read that story here: Let Them Eat Pie
Izzy’s - It's your father's steakhouse. Or maybe your grandfather's. Yes, lots of red meat going on here, but they have salads and fish too for the more delicate among us. Gary and I went here a lot when I was in cancer treatment, and I'd pick at a baked potato while the server longed for us to leave quickly so bigger spenders could take our place. I was teary eyed to be back in that space with my restored voracious appetite, a full head of hair, and my entire family instead of just my incredible husband looking across the booth at my emaciated body and Izzy's unsurpassed line up of condiments. Life is a miracle.