doesn't mean they aren't after you.”
For some reason, I kept thinking of this quote from Joseph Heller’s Catch-22 as we sat having lunch at Foster’s Bighorn in Rio Vista, CA.
“…When Howard Lamothe visited Foster’s Bighorn…for a sundowner one night in 2004, he had no idea he’d soon be the proud owner of the California Delta’s most famous watering hole—complete with its 255 bristly inhabitants. ‘The previous owner was upset at being 73 years old and still having the bar when all she wanted was to be out having lunch with her friends and visiting her kids,’ says Lamothe.”
You enter through the long narrow bar where “(b)lack and white photos…chronicle African vacations where Foster cheerily posed with a variety of carcasses” (roadsideamerica.com).
“In the rear dining room, layers of heads reach the ceiling—water buffalo, lions, a rare giraffe. And the centerpiece of Foster's: the mounted head of a full grown African elephant—13 feet from base to trunk tip, with five-foot long tusks!
It is this trophy that I consider to be the most disconcerting. And while I would like to think that we have evolved in our thinking, an article by Adam Vaughan in the December, 2, 2013 issue of The Guardian states: “Africa will lose one-fifth of its elephants in the next decade if the continent's poaching crisis is not stopped, data published on Monday shows. There were about 10 million African elephants (Loxodonta africana) at the turn of the 20th century, but that number has fallen to half a million due to poaching and habitat loss…” So perhaps we haven’t evolved that far.
“…Soon after taking over, Lamothe was enjoying the attention the new-look Foster’s was getting and the fact that everybody seems to be coming back. But times—and attitudes—have changed. Just as Lamothe has no desire to hunt and shoot, he doesn’t want anybody under the table. ‘I tell my bartenders we’re interested in people’s first three drinks, not their last three. We don’t need to get them drunk. We just need to cheer them up’” (Wanda Hennig at examiner.com). And the volume of business that Sunday noon is testament to the success of the new Foster’s.
Barb’s choice of lunch was the Fish and Chips—three large pieces of cold water Alaskan Pollock (one of which Chuck ate along with his lunch and which he pronounced to be very good due to its thin and crisp coating).
I had no trouble with my choice. I had fond memories of the calamari strips that I had eaten here in 2009; it was at Foster’s that I had my first experience with calamari that was not in rings and tentacles form.
And the fries that accompanied all three of our plates were also first rate—crisp and not oily.
As we left following our 4.5 Addie lunch, I felt that all 510 mounted eyes were following our departure. But I’m not paranoid.
To review the role of Adler, Kitty Humbug, and the Addie rating system, read the November 14, 2011 blog.