I woke up at around 7:30 this morning on Howard's futon and started walking home and wondered, "why the hell do I give a shit about whether or not it's a bad idea to start blogging about local restaurants? If I feel like writing some shit, I should write some shit." I also asked, "Why the FUCK are one my socks completely soaked in some liquid with a smell I can't identify?" and "How the hell did I have the gumption to take off my cut-off jean shorts before I passed out on the futon?"
So I threw on some Sunny G's, put my shoes on(sans socks), and started walking my stupid ass back to my crib. There was a point when I was staring at my eyelids earlier, having realized that I was on Howard's futon and not my tempurpedic mattress, that I had a craving for a bakery/deli joint that's on the way from "mid-town"(the part of Charlottesville in between UVA and downtown that has a couple of restaurants and a handful of homeless dudes that want to borrow your cell phone) to Belmont(the Williamsburg of Charlottesville that has a bunch of assholes who want to borrow your smart phone): Penne Lane.
How in god's name is this place still in business!?!? It's off the beaten path, it has a shitty name, and they dumpster dive grocery store rotisserie chickens to make their chicken salad; which means, yes, their chicken salad is fucking delicious (maybe they don't dumpster dive them, they could just go to Kroger at 11pm and buy them for pocket change like a lot of other poor fuckers, but I'm pretty damn sure that chicken salad has the unmistakable flavor of grocery store rotisserie chicken, and I didn't see any chickens there rotisserrieing). This might be bull shit, but I heard somewhere that the owners are in some sort of witness protection thingy because of some Italian mob craziness and it's just a place for them to dump their boat-load of cash they got for snitching, but this is coming from a dude who first ate there because he was walking from the emergency room on the 5th of July after getting rufied.
Anyway, this place is family owned and operated -- the family consisting of the soft-spoken dad, the mom who seems to be self-medicating, and the son who can't figure out if he's black or not -- and they provide a very pleasant and inviting atmosphere. The three or four people who came in as I was masticating(HAHAHA ! I'll never get over that word) all knew the family by name and had their "usuals". I had the breakfast special, which is a breaky sandwich on freshly baked bread and a steaming hot coffee for a holy buttfucking shit $2.99. And yeah, so I had the same meal the day before for free because I stole my roomates' food, but the difference of the coffee being hot as fuck, the bread not being government brand, and having melted provolone instead of mayonnaise and hot sauce was wayyyyy worth it.
They get negative points for labeling themselves a gourmet deli and not having sparking water("the crispy version of wet" -Colaymon), but get bonus points because a really hot girl about to get on a train to New York stopped by and the me inside my head asked her to sit with me and grow old together. I also asked for a sausage egg and cheese, and got an egg and cheese, but didn't say anything because maybe self-medicating mom knew I shouldn't be such a fat ass all the time.
So yeah, I'm not sure how this place is still in business and I probably won't go out of my way to eat there, but I like it.
Penne Lane is located at 707 West Main Street in Charlottesville, Virginia, like half a mile from my crib, where a few months ago an air-flight attendant wearing a giant dream catcher and had a tongue ring made sex with me.