Christmas Eve

Those of you who know him will be delighted to hear that Dad has maintained his habit of finding a restaurant he likes and then progressively colonising it. He becomes a regular, tips well, makes friends with the owners and staff and before you know it he's taste testing prospective menu items and being grossly undercharged for everything. If he ever lives in a city long enough I'm convinced he'll eventually have hiring and firing rights.


This has had terrific benefits for me. I've been presented with endless free desserts (usually without having to order them). I went out one night without Dad and Patricia and found myself absolutely forbidden to pay for drinks at another of their regular haunts that turns into a nightspot after 10pm.


However, Dad's most impressive conquest in Fresno is probably a restaurant called Parma. It's run by a woman who came from Parma, Italy and still imports her cheeses and pork products from home. Everything on the menu looks delicious and everything I've tasted so far certainly is.


We had a magnificent dinner there on Christmas Eve. Despite the restaurant being packed solid the staff still made time to give us special treatment and the owner greeted us all with hugs. That's impressive enough, but I didn't realise that Dad had achieved unofficial silent partner status until the check (bill) arrived.

Thank you Parma, and Merry Christmas to you too.