In the insane world of corporate lunches I've left behind I have many fond memories.
La Cima in Dallas Texas, looking out over the flatness and bigness of Texas as a spring thunderstorm rolls across Los Colinas and swallowsup the airport we all call DFW.
The fine linen and china dining at the Fairmont Hotel in New Orleans and Washington's Capital City Club were I once sat just a table away from Henry Kissinger. The man while a brilliant statesman is a pig, he was shockingly disheveled and had the most horrid table manners.
And memories of Windows on the World at the World Trade Center, watching ferry and tug traffic from what truly seemed like the top of the world.
But for all the fine lunches, nothing really beats a good old fashioned peanut butter and jelly sandwich. With a "PBJ" sandwich, it is a simple food that for some reason needs not a plate, nor even a table, it is as acceptable to prepare on a bare counter top and serve up with a paper towel as it is to place on fine china.
The only thing that comes close is the ubiquitous "Pimento Cheese" sandwich served at the Augusta National Golf Club during Masters week.
Thanks to Abby Ryan who has been creating a painting a day since 2007, I'm now going to an early lunch and hopefully not with Dr. Kissinger.