My wife and I recently went on a road trip to Miami. It had been planned for a while as part of our anniversary celebration. We hit some of the main attractions such as South Beach and the Art Deco District. We also enjoyed a cruise to Star Island on Biscayne Bay.

Those are fond memories, but looking back I find some of the more memorable moments just happened. For example, on the evening of our anniversary we had reservations at a nice restaurant downtown, but our hotel was located in the suburbs. After fighting traffic to visit South Beach and heading back to our hotel to change, we didn’t feel like making another roundtrip downtown. So we cancelled our reservation at Baires Grill and dined instead at an Argentinian steakhouse near our hotel.

It was a small, family restaurant located in a strip mall. The hour was early and we were the only patrons in the restaurant. Our waitress, who was likely the daughter, took notice that we were dressed up and assumed we were celebrating a special occasion. She switched off ESPN and put on some music.

She was nice but her grasp on the English language was a little loose. I ordered a steak, medium, and a baked potato. The first thing I noticed when she brought out our plates was mine had sweet potato fries. 

When I cut into my steak, I said to my wife, “Something is wrong here." It was very difficult to cut, which is unusual for a filet. When I cut it in half I discovered why. It was essentially raw – or as rare as rare can be. I should have sent it back, but it was our anniversary so I didn’t. It wasn’t bad, but I think I’ll stick with medium.

The trip home was the final leg of our journey. Around lunchtime we found ourselves out in the middle of nowhere. Feeling adventurous, we let a billboard lure us off the highway to a small town. 

There we found the restaurant as advertised, which was very unique. The walls were adorned with various tools and knickknacks. It was clear everyone knew each other by the way the waitstaff interacted with the guests. 

Our lunch was delicious and we enjoyed the experience. I do not recall the name of the restaurant, and we probably would never stumble on it again if we tried. A picture is worth a thousand words so here is a snap I took inside the restaurant.

Final Thoughts

Life is about the journey, not the destination. And a journey begins with a single step. Where may not be as important as taking that first step. Wherever you may go, some of the most meaningful moments are found in the spaces in between.

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