The Bay Leaf, Travis City, Michigan
January 23 
On our second day in the white north my daughter Violet and I were searching again for food among the frozen intersections of Travis City, Michigan. Pizza on all fronts. And Big Boy (what happened to the "Bob" in their name?), Red Lobster and other ingredient aggregators too. But no food. Snow falling, the car began to slide, so I parked in front of an inviting place called, "The Bay Leaf: Rustic Cuisine." Normally, Vio and I don't eat much meat. But our first meal in Michigan had been burgers and fries, onion rings and a shake for her. Somehow, leaving Brooklyn changed everything. But still, I was looking for veg, and this place looked like it might have it. At the very least it would serve bay leaves, right? The place was pretty comfortable, if cold (everywhere in Michigan was cold last weekend). Violet ordered a pork chop, which is something she never eats. I ordered a salad and lentil soup, and at the last moment added a bone marrow appetizer, thinking Violet should try it. As we waited for the food, I told her how my mother used to stew round steak for me and my brothers, and we'd compete for the marrow bone so we could scoop the warm, soft fat straight into our mouths. I loved it. I wanted her to share this experience. I was expecting a plate with a few one inch sections of bone, propped upright, warm and glistening, served with a tiny spoon. Then the bone arrived: a foot long, as thick as a baseball bat, split top to reveal the very crusty brown and delicious looking marrow. The only problem was that I felt sick from the size of the thing. I think Violet was thinking of dinosaurs. I tasted a bit -- I know this is an unreasonable complaint, but it was just way to beefy, in a dirty way. Still, Violet gave it a try, digging through the crust into the marrow and lifting up her spoon to reveal....a bright red globule. I felt suspicious. I'd never seen red marrow. But I let the chef's expertise overide my own common sense. If it was red, it was supposed to be red. Why do we do that -- trust a uniform, a title? Violet wasn't seduced. She took a bite and spit it out. I sent it back. Many apologies from the chef. And my apologies to the cow.
Reader Comments (1)
I can imagine how it tasted. :( Not good at all. How old is violet anyway?