Harvest

Above, Larry being Larry. In other words, checking his phone at dinner. Probably linking to stuff on Facebook. He does that.
 

But where were we? At Harvest, of course. On our first "dine out" night (translation: DON'T EAT THE FISH!) (Actually, the AP likes to give the food service people a break twice during the reading. They don't make dinner and we all go out to eat.) we visited Proof on Main again. I tried moonshine. It was great (tasted like butter) (the definition of "great")(I am using a lot of parentheses tonight).

On our second "dine out" night we took the downtown trolley to Harvest, a farm-to-table restaurant in the NuLu neighborhood. It's cute - Louisville's own teensy little Brooklyn.

The cocktail above? A Kentucky Champagne. Ale 8 (nectar of the Gods) plus bourbon plus a twist. Quite tasty! Before that Larry and I revisited our affectionate regard for Eagle Rare bourbon.

If you happen to be in Louisville, Harvest is pretty good. The meat platter (all kinds of BBQ-ish stuff), the fried chicken, the steak. It's all good. The grits are weird. Don't order those. Also, if you sit at the crazy table made of a slice of tree, watch your drink. The table isn't flat so your cocktail might just...slide right off into your lap.

Didn't happen to me, of course. But only because a nimble-fingered waitress dipped her knees as she passed and caught the darn thing.