7.7.10

Where everybody knows your name...

When I was 21 years old, my sweetheart of nearly a year borrowed his daddy's car so he could take me out to the ballet for our first Valentine's Day in something other than our old clunker.  I wore the same dress I wore as a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding, a simple, empire-waisted, very long, elegant deep navy gown, and he wore a tie.  He took me someplace nice but not extravagant to eat before we headed for a drink at the hotel nearest the Performing Arts Center and finally to see Carmina Burana; this was my first visit to St. Michael's Alley.  It emitted a lovely, dark public house vibe, and was perfect for the occasion.  I remember ordering a salad with hot bacon dressing on Justin's recommendation. This was about thirteen years ago; I was about forty years late for the grand opening.

Some of the best, simplest, loveliest moments of my life took place at St. Michael's Alley, now a "vanished" Tulsa icon.  When I have more time, I will post more photos on its rich history, but for now, a few photos to tease you with:









If you have any special St. Michael's Memories, please comment me!  Thank you!

3 comments:

Valerie said...

I only ate there once with Sacha, but I still dream about that German potato salad! Delish!

Melanie said...

I miss it too! I didn't go there until I was an adult, like you, but I loved the feel of the place and how you just felt like you were somewhere with feeling. Too bad that Rick's lost a lot of that feel with their very ordinary decor (but the food is great!). One memory is of going in there with a big group right after I had Nyal and you were there and we talked about breast feeding because it was so hard for me at the time, and you told me about a friend of yours who was still nursing her 3-year-old daughter and I felt a lot better.

Mrs. O said...

I am so glad to hear that! Little did I know that she would be my inspiration soon as well as I struggled through the heartbreaking experience of never getting milk...her devotion to her daughter and breast milk gave me the courage to use a supplemental nursing system and take loads of fenugreek and reglan and give Arthur what milk I could, even when it was at its peak two ounces at a time.

Someday, I should post a blog about how amazing that experience was for me, even though it was one of the greatest challenges of my life. If I could, I would have nursed him until he was two. But every moment was worth it, even with an IV in my hand for four of those weeks. :)

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