... when we left our intrepid protagonist, he was mildly bemused by the antics of his extended family - the a capella karaoke, the drunken toasts, the typical chaos of a Kim family get-together. He was busy taking and posing for pictures with the bride and groom when, suddenly, Uncle Greg (who has established something of a reputation as the family clown / smart-ass) got it into his head that he wanted to take Brandy and Tony out to dinner the next night. At a buffet. In Niagara Falls.
So the next morning, after a relaxing recovery breakfast with Michelle's family (at whose house they were staying), Brandy and Tony were whisked off to Aunt Hyun Gyung's place to plot out the course of the day. Michelle's older sister, Maryan, was kind enough to clear her schedule for the day as well as volunteering her driving services. After some debate as to who would be going and several roster changes, Brandy, Tony, Maryan, Tony's parents, his grandmother and his cousin Steve finally piled into two cars and departed for Uncle Greg's. After picking up Uncle Greg and his wife, the motley family, now nine-strong, departed for Niagara-on-the-Lake.
The plan, as it was originally conceived, consisted of driving to Niagara-on-the-Lake, walking around the picturesque tourist village while waiting for the buffet to open at 4 p.m., then proceeding to that site of culinary carnage. Unbeknownst to the principals, N-o-t-L was currently in the midst of its annual Peach Festival, so when The Nine pulled into town, they were swiftly struck by how little parking seemed available. Lo and behold, the Parking Gods smiled on them and, after a bit of waiting in a public lot, they embarked on their little walk.
N-o-t-L's sidewalks swarmed with families while classic car enthusiasts cruised the main drag. Peach products were strangely scarce considering it was the annual Peach Festival, but some stores were selling peach preserves or peach ice cream or chocolate-dipped peaches (borrowing from the concept of the candy / caramel apple). It was a classic scene from the annals of Americana, or in this case, Canadiana.
Having had their fill of family wholesomeness after less than an hour, The Nine departed for Niagara Falls and the promise of all-you-can-eat crab legs. Tony had but one regret thus far on the trip: he had not been aware that N-o-t-L was the tourist epicenter of the Niagara Peninsula winegrowing region, and the family had not budgeted enough time to stop at any wineries. So as the invitingly-designed tasting rooms of Inniskillin, Peller Estate and Jackson Triggs (and their wonderful icewines) faded tantalizingly into the distance, he thought, "those crab legs better be damn good."
It had been some time since Tony had last visited Niagara Falls. When he was younger, his family had lived in Rochester, NY, a scant hour and a half drive from the Falls. Being somewhat on the way to Toronto, his family had driven through there numerous times and taken in all the tourist sites, even the famed Maid of the Mist. It had been a tourist trap, even then, but he was surprised by how much more developed the area had become.
In retrospect, Tony probably should have realized that the word "buffet" not prefaced by "Old Country" meant that the establishment was part of a larger structure. How large? Try Fallsview Casino / Resort. A little slice of Vegas, transported to the Canadian border. Same feel, same slot machines, same amusement-park lines for the buffet.
Omitting most of the gory details, imagine eight famished Koreans and Brandy tearing into an all-you-can-eat buffet. Crab shells, shrimp tails and trimmings from hand-carved (slightly overdone) prime rib flew around the table. Napkins and wet-naps disappeared at an alarming rate. Well-worn trails appeared in the carpeting between the table and the buffet area. Second and third bussers had to be called over to help clear. Iced tea flowed like water. Water flowed like water. And unfortunately for Tony, after dinner was over, his club soda glass had an ugly run-in with the server's hand, and it, too, flowed like water. Down the front of his shirt. And all over his pants. Right in the crotch area and down both legs to the knee. Looking very much like he'd lost control of his bodily functions. And it was cold.
As Brandy not-so-helpfully pointed out, at least it hadn't been red wine or cranberry juice. And Tony thought to himself, "or hot coffee."
So, full of fairly decent buffet food and slightly damp in the pants, our tired protagonist departed Niagara Falls, then Toronto without further mishap.
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Sorry about the third-person narrative. It just started coming out like that, then I decided to run with it. More on wine later.
