Doug Flambé

Hey, friend.

A week ago, my brother visited us from Wilmington. He’s over a decade older than me. The age gap is the smallest of our differences, but we get along wonderfully.

I enjoyed watching him interact with my boys. He’s like the “cool” older uncle you read about in interesting memoirs and novels. He lives at the beach, doesn’t worry about the future, and tells a great story. I can recount most of them, but he shared one at dinner I’d never heard. The boys were in stitches. Curious? Here it is, told by “brother Doug” during dinner over steaks and laughter (edited and context provided with artistic license by yours truly).

It was the early 1990s. I’d just moved to Wrightsville Beach and took a job waiting tables at Shell Island Resort. It was an easy gig at an upper scale place that provided cash in my pocket and work hours conducive to my top priority, surfing.

One evening, I sat a family with two young boys, roughly ten years old. They ordered burgers and a new popular appetizer called “Fired Up Cheese.” It was a big mozzarella cheese stick fried in a cast-iron skillet you’d set on fire table side.

It was the chef’s new creation, and I’d only served it a few times. I brought it out. The cast iron handle burned my hands even through the holder. I didn’t realize the skillet was too hot and the oil a little too thick. I placed it on the table. The two boys’ eyes widened. I lit the dish. A fireball erupted! The smell of burnt hair filled the room. My eyebrows, gone. My face, red as the marinara dipping sauce on the table. I realized the scent was coming from my scorched bangs. Shocked, dazed, and charred, I left the restaurant without a word, drove the few minutes home, and hopped in the shower (hoping to cool off).

My manager called later and asked if I was ok, as well as to tell me the kids asked to have the burgers lit on fire too.

The next time I showed up for work, the cooking staff and waiters had a good laugh at my expense. In my "honor," they renamed the dish as Doug Flambé.

He had us rolling. My boys called it a highlight of his visit. I doubt they’ll ever look at mozzarella sticks the same way.

Seen, heard, or read anything interesting? Anything you’re digging right now?

• My brother’s visit reminded me of the time he taught me to surf. You can read about it here: Surfing lessons
• Clever insurance ad: Neighbors Dog
• “Grace is opposed to merit, not effort” - Dallas Willard

Been great catching up.

Talk soon,

David