The Salty Dog 2015

This says it all !

        It won't be long before it's 2015 and I plan to be in Brooklyn the last day of this year and the first day of the New Year, celebrating my last supper of this year having the best burger at my favorite place. Coming back to Brooklyn means home and any time I can visit the Salty Dog only makes it more meaningful. It isn't just a bar or just a restaurant but it's the people,
        From the moment I take a first step over and into The Salty Dog, I always first notice the wooden floors and then me eyes sweep the room taking it all in, the firetruck, blazing a deep red, the brick walls and the bar. The bar at times looks lonely, waiting. It sits and waits for elbows, smiles, pats on the backs of friends, hugs, kisses on cheeks and orders of big beer mugs.  Here it comes, a frosty one and a big man grabbing the cold handle after a long day and taking that first swallow and just as he does a buddy walks in, pulling his thick blue jacket off, nodding his head and another beer is set up. The voices. Two men who share a same kind of job, now relaxed at home with who they know. Home as in the neighborhood place to be.
        As I continue to walk to the back, I notice a few servers on each side waiting to see where I want to sit, not where they want me to sit. That's a nice feeling. No one is pushing me to sit in a section. Ah, I am comfortable. Adjusting my eyes to the dimly lit area I see some familiar faces, smiling and welcoming. They know me, as a visitor who comes up every few months or sometimes longer. It  doesn't matter. I'm just as good as any regular. They know what I order but ask anyway to make sure I didn't want anything different.
       Then they look to the other side. My guest, usually a kid, but once in a while a friend I grew up with and no matter who or what, we are treated as friends, as long time neighborhood friends.
      I'm a listener and a watcher and I see how people are treated at The Salty Dog, how they are spoken to, smiled at. Warm hearts. It's almost like saying, Who loves ya baby?  At times I forget why I'm there as I get lost in looking around. The photos on the walls, a fireman, history, buildings and a fireplace with a dalmation.
That dog who never moves but reserves in silence a place, a place for newcomers, almost makes me want to walk over and pet him, but all of this means, There's No Place Like Home.
Thank you Salty Dog

The Salty Dog And Those Great Servers

       Yesterday morning, Saturday the nineteenth, I decided to take a foster son on a day trip to New York, Specifically Brooklyn where I grew up. I love Brooklyn and miss it. Nothing takes the place of the people and the food, except the memories.
       With those memories come the smells, pictures in my mind of places and food and servers with smiles. No mater what kind of day they might be having, no matter what's going on in their lives, they smile to make our day better. I was having an up and down day, and wanted so much to have lunch at The Salty Dog, but they were overcrowded. I felt as if I was giving the boy I had as good a time as possible, but he asked and wanted more and more than I could do on this day, leaving me feel frustrated. I had to knock thoughts out of my head of what I wanted to say to say, and remember what life was life for him and so we ate across the street at the Lighthouse for lunch, a small cafe with very nice people. They made a great burger and I added an egg cream. Ahhh...memories!

        After Lunch the boy asked about eating at The Salty Dog and I said, we'll have supper there, and while it was still day time, I took a few photos of him by and near the old firehouse. On we went to the City, FAO Schwartz and of course parking issues, but if you know New York, you know about parking and I know New York. He wanted things to buy. Anything about Harry Potter, but he just couldn't understand the cost of the trip. I gave him a few extra bucks, bought small things, and all I could think was, he's a kid and it's natural to want, when you come from where he came from.
        On to Little Italy, and I asked him about being hungry as it was getting late and I wanted to leave New York by seven. He said he wasn't hungry and I was happy because again, I wanted to go to the Salty Dog. Suddenly a guy on one of the Italian restaurant steps,  good looking and young grabs my guys attention. In his accent he tells him , don't you want to be out front and flirt with all the pretty girls? Fast talking he repeated it until the kid starts to smile, looks at me and says, well, can we? I tell him, we'll talk on the corner. There I explain how things work. It's all business and on we drove to Brooklyn. Yea!
        Round and round I went to find a parking space just up the street from The Salty Dog. As I got closer I hope Larry was working. Larry was a waiter who was there every time my daughter, her friends and my friends stopped in. He could be my son-almost. Good looking, muscular and charming he was for sure. Now that aside, a person quickly forgets as he treats you and your guests as he did mine to an experience. An experience you rarely get at many restaurants. I am not demeaning other servers. What I am saying to be more specific is Larry is a down to earth person who makes someone feel as if they count, not just a tip.
          I have known servers who pay more attention at the end of the meal. That's too late. No matter how busy The Salty Dog is Larry works hard and I feel gives as much attention to patrons as any one server can do. He's like an old friend, like someone you've known for twenty years. He smiles at the guests, checks back just enough to make sure  a person doesn't feel forgotten, doesn't feel as if they no longer count, but definitely doesn't overdo it. Larry is a just right kind of waiter/server.
            We arrived close to seven so I knew we would be getting home later than I wanted to. We were seated by a young lady name Kelly, very pretty with a classy  and friendly way about her. In the distance I saw who I thought was Larry. It's been too long since I've been gone. He changed, but so had I. I asked Kelly as she sat our beverages down, much needed coffee and root beer in a Salty Dog bottle, if that was Larry. With a big beautiful smile, she said, yes that's Larry, why does he look different? Kelly remarked how they good natured tease about how people change. If she saw me three to four years ago, she would have thought I was my daughter, that's how much I've changed.
           Kelly gave us more time to check the menus and suddenly Larry walked over, and took our order. I was confused. Talking more a short time later, Kelly said, we look out for each other and then she and I shared college stories about myself and her mom. Just everyday people. It was nice to see the love when she talked about her mom.  My guy wanted to put half of his order in a box to go, said he was full. I felt just right yet I ordered a slice of cheesecake. Oh wait, my order; I ordered a bacon cheeseburger as I always do. It came with mouth watering fries, a big bun, tomato, a pickle and a smile from Larry-I think. By now after the total experience, I'm not too sure who did what as another guy brought desert.
        I have to back-up.  I ate my burger off the bun so I didn't get full, but fresh coffee and cheesecake, I was in heaven. But that burger!  Not only was I so happy to be in Brooklyn but at The Salty Dog, the place that makes the best burgers anywhere! As I was leaving Larry stood by the bar and I patted his shoulder, almost feeling like I shouldn't be, but wanted to say good-bye. He made this visit so special and then to meet Kelly doubled my very happy time. She was  as friendly, but in a different way and made me feel like I just met a friend, although I could be her gram, well maybe.
       Quickly I stepped away from where Larry stood, stepped back by a wall and caught him as he turned around to shake my kids' hand. What a class act! He waved to me, said nice seeing you again. Hopefully I'll get up again when it's colder or get my a/c fixed, brakes and those things we all need to take care of.
         Oh remember I said what a class act? That goes for Kelly and everyone at the SD. I have eaten in many restaurants, (you can tell) from Sardi's to Ill Cortille, Sal Anthonys, Siba's in Pittsburgh, The brown Derby in California-nice but ...well, is it no cigars? All nice places, but I would rather eat any meal where I am made to feel at home, welcome and I can go so far as to say nurtured. I, as well as anyone I bring leave the Salty Dog knowing, what a great place, what kind people and the food..ahhh the food. Thank you Kelly, and Thank you Larry. You all treated this little guy just as important as you do the adults. Class unmeasured to you.
 No brag, just fact!