This small, family-owned restaurant has a huge menu, offers well-prepared meals, and everything is reasonably priced. The homey atmosphere is very Cape-y, and the service is always good. There is just one problem. The hours. Crabapple’s is open for dinner only three or four nights a week. Not being a local resident, I can never remember when it’s open and when it’s not. But it does seem that whenever I suggest going, my mom always says, “We can’t go. Crabapple’s is closed tonight.”
But the big pre-summer news this year was that Crabapples was sold to the chef. And the chef has decided to keep the restaurant open for dinner, seven nights a week. Finally. A good restaurant near my parent’s that we like. So far, my mom doesn’t know anyone who has been there and not had a good meal. Most other restaurants have been eliminated from consideration because, “Jackie went last week and it was awful,” or “Hope will never go back there.” So Crabapple’s being open seven days is really good news.
The boys (all of them, including my dad) do not want to go out for dinner. The girls (myself, my sister and my mom) do. So we bring in pizza for the guys and the girls take off to Crabapples.
It’s a rare occasion that Jean, my mom and I have dinner together. And although the restaurant may be commonplace, the dinner and the company are not.
We splurge on fried clams, French fries, ratatouille and apple pie. I think of that guy who wrote a book and sometimes appears on TODAY in a segment called Eat This Not That. He’d be screaming about this meal, “Don’t eat that. Do you have any idea how bad that is? It’s the equivalent of 8 trillion Big Mac’s,” or something like that.
Tonight no one cares. We all eat everything and leave totally satisfied.
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