Wrong Potatoes

I was saddened by the news that Costa do Sol has been sold. I am talking about a restaurant owned by the same family since it opened in 1938. It is incomprehensible how such an emblematic place is going to disappear. I remember times of civil war, when going to that restaurant represented a life risk. Emmanuel, the son of the Greek founder, survived the worst. I suppose he couldn’t survive the changes coming with time.

I remember how he complained about the noisy crowds around his restaurant during the busiest months of the year: December, January and February. Maybe he couldn’t stand losing some of his usual clientele… like myself. He’s the only one to blame for starting to use commercial bottled garlic and those dreadful artificial potatoes. I don’t know for sure if people stopped going to his restaurant, I just know my reasons. But a place serving such potatoes doesn’t deserve to be called restaurant.

I’ve been trying to have a different attitude towards change. The sad taste when I hear about most of the changes is temperamental. It’s even more social and cultural than temperamental. It is social because changes remind me of other past changes that hurt too much. It is cultural because I cannot avoid the side of me inherited from fado singers and nostalgic mentalities.

I don’t know if change is good or bad. I suppose sometimes it’s good and sometimes bad. I don’t think wise losing our time qualifying changes as this or that. What I know for sure is that change is unavoidable. We have to learn to live with it and go with the flow.

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