Old Friends and Sharp Cheddar

I tracked down my old friend J.C. last night, and I don't mean the Lord. We spent a delightful evening at his friend's restaurant -- Sonoma, in Southeast (barely) -- where they serve you a wide array of lovingly hand-crafted cheeses as an appetizer, provided you order and pay for them. We also had a bottle of wine and both had to send back the gnocchi, which they didn't tell us was made in fish broth with roe. It tasted like scales. Sad.

As a side note, I should remind everyone to be careful what you wish for. Everyone where I come from wistfully chuckles about seeing "real seasons," but in my case "real seasons" turned into four inches of snow last night. So J.C. gets the last laugh.