Bordentown Weekend

Heading back for a weekend to a place where I have planted deep roots was a replenishing of friendships and an awakening that change takes place while I’m gone. Breaking bread and drinking wine is still my favorite way to keep my friendships cemented. There is something ancient in sharing a table laden with food, drink, and the revealing of tales, like King Arthur and his Knights or the Pilgrims and the American Natives on Thanksgiving.

How could anyone do you wrong after the telling of stories across the table? Stories are meant to give the listener an insight to the teller. The reverse works just as well. Even though the sagas are for entertainment, true or no, the words will be remembered while the pimple on his nose will be long forgotten.

The first place to sup was breakfast at the Park Street Café, where everyone knows your name. And just in case they’ve forgotten, it’s written on your coffee mug. This warm spot has conversations bubbling over and hearty welcomes greeting you at the door. Discussions at my table are of a wide range and filled with laughter.

If you are ever feeling lonely, just stand on the sidewalk of Farnsworth Avenue in the business area. There is always someone passing by to say hello. In my case, Patti bumped into me and invited me to Oliver’s for lunch with Suzanne, Charlotte and Peggy. The new owners have kept the Oliver tradition of ‘food to tell your friends about’ and made additions with their own personal touch. Wonderful.

Friday night was a late dinner at the Wisdom Café with Pete, Tom and Anne. The next table over was two thirds of the Ellis family plus their friends. There are always good stories to be heard from them, to add to the tales at our own table. We all enjoyed our dinners immensely.

Saturday daytime was the Arcadia Authors’ Panel Discussion/book signing. The evening gathered us at the Blue Danube, owned by Margaret and Peter from Bordentown City. This is always my choice of restaurants to go to in Trenton. Stained glass windows are the exterior first clue to the coziness of the two rooms and bar interior with eastern European pottery, paintings and tapestries adorning the walls and shelving. Our server has been there as long as the owners, making her a welcome sight, too. We all enjoyed our dinners enhanced by pitchers of Sangria made earlier, especially for us.

Sunday loomed with the nagging thought that I was to leave my familiar friends and haunts. First, Prateeti was to join Anne and I for a lunch at the Sticky Wicket. It took us about a half hour to eat, but reluctant to part; we stayed for a full three hours.
I carried another round of wonderful memories back to North Carolina to be brought out on a gloomy day, a reminder of the good fortune in my life.