Cancún 2024 - Boat Parking Area / The Steak House

There's something about boat patterns, all parked in a row like this.  Wider shot below of same:

Similar pic, sort of, from Corpus Christi posted here from 2021.

And I'm surprised this one wasn't posted in my Lake District series, so here it is - belatedly, as the series was posted in 2019.  The location was Windermere-on-Bowness in England's northern Lake District:

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Last night our son took us out to a top-tier steak house for Father's Day.  It was a new restaurant, located on the edge of the Heights here in Houston.  A good time was had by all, and the steak (as well as everything else) was superb.

Normally when a person thinks "steak house", he or she might imagine cloth napkins and table covers, place settings with a jillion knives and forks, wine glasses, and a lights turned low in an elegant atmosphere.  I, however, almost always conjure the memory of a brightly-lit greasy-spoon establishment in Beaumont, Texas.  And yes, the steaks there were great, too.

This was in the summer of 1977, when I was working for the KFDM (Channel 6) news and production departments.  My boss in news was Larry Beaulieu, and I reported to Jeff Pryor when doing production work between the 6 & 10 newscasts.  Sometimes, if the workload was heavy enough, I'd stay until midnight, or even later.  This was back when the station was located just off of I-10, between Harrison and Louisiana Avenues.  Much of this period is covered in a series of stories posted in the fall of 2019, written to cover my radio and TV work as a teenager.

Usually I took a dinner break after the rush of the six o'clock news was over, and one time my co-workers persuaded me to go with them to this hole-in-the-wall eatery nearby, on 11th Street.  Nothing could beat their steaks, they said.  Sure I'll go, why not...

So five of us piled into one of their cars (I didn't own one so almost always rode my bike to work) and headed to this great place.  And what we pulled up to was definitely a hole-in-the-wall, in a nondescript strip center - a dive at best - but my friends swore by the quality of the food.  Once inside this was affirmed by the number of people waiting for a table in the smallish eating area.  Because we worked for the TV station and because my companions were regular customers, they found a place for us almost right away.

Great, so we all settled into a booth and ordered from a waitress who retrieved a pad from the pocket of her apron and pencil that was kept in her hair.  Several of us ordered the famous steak, among other things.  As we waited for our order I felt a positive, busy vibe.  An older man wearing a stained white apron, whom I presumed to be the owner or proprietor, presided over the whole business with an authoritative air and blue collar tongue.  At times he gave my workmates a respectful nod of recognition while manning his station behind the counter.

Then our food came.  My buddies were eager to get my take on the quality, which was actually very good.  After we'd been eating for a little while, the owner guy came over to our booth and sat right down to chat it up with my co-workers, during which I was introduced as a first-time customer.  After a little small talk this fellow took a look at me, then down at my steak on the plate, then back at me, saying, "No, you're doing this wrong!"  Then, with his bare hands he grabbed my meat, turned it around on my plate, and with his finger instructed me to cut with the grain, not against it.  I complied, and once he saw that it was being done correctly continued his small talk with the group as if we were never interrupted by my transgression.

Forget what this eatery was called, but I'll always remember that encounter, and the gruff man who made sure I did justice to the steaks he so proudly served.