The Old Spaghetti Factory. I remember it being a big deal when I was 13 years old. It was not a restaurant we'd go to all the time; it was reserved for special occasions, at least back then. The occasion? My birthday.
Ever since then, my birthday dinner has been celebrated within it's high ceilings, graceful lighting, good food, and of course, a trolley.
Here's to my family, putting up with 12 years of Italian food. Here's to tradition, may your end be only for the better. Here's to being a quarter of a century.
Cheers.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
i love that tradition...it makes that day very special for you and for us together. perhaps on your next birthday ill go to CA and have dinner at that one special place :)
Oh my god! I have the exact same birthday tradition! And it used to be the only time of the year that I got to order an Italian soda. Now whenever we go there my dad tells me I can order one, but it feels like blasphemy to have one when it's not my birthday. Ha ha. I am 24 years old, but I think I only have ten glasses.... sigh. The ultimate tragedy is when you leave the glass on the table accidentally.
Post a Comment