town house, chilhowie, va--happy new year

it’s two am, and two thousand twelve is but minutes old.  standing there in full embrace, my chest to her back, she’s engulfed by my arms.  arching backwards, with our heads titled up to the skies, her body acts as a counter weight to my backwards arch and we stand suspended in an effortless gaze at the stellar canopy overhead. 

we haven’t seen stars like this in any recent memory.  welcome to southwestern Virginia.  welcome to Chilhowie, home to about two thousand people—home of a metal scrapper that can chop two midsize vehicles into marbles in under ten seconds—and, home of town house, a tiny thimble of a restaurant on an equally as tiny main street, where the food rivals the best in the nation.     

on thirty six acres, buffered by a quickly flowing stream, her and I are spending our anniversary, as well as the new year, nestled into a two bedroom prohibition era cottage in the hills just outside Chilhowie.  the house and the restaurant are of the same husband wife duo, and the man himself was our personal chauffer when it was time to leave the cottage and head “downtown” for dinner—a most gracious host, he was. 

a several hour, multi course, extremely creative and intelligent display of artistically crafted plates composed from well sourced ingredients.  town house was described to me by more than one person as “one of the best meals in the country”, and now I would nod in agreeance.

while our future plans are to exhibit hospitality, with food service as a pillar, town house is exhibiting brilliant food, with hospitality as a supplement.  to reach the cottage one must first stop at the restaurant to pick up a key.  at the house, no steward or concierge is available, but instead, a few delicious homemade snacks, wine and water in the fridge, breakfast already prepared for the morning after, and a warm note, asking us to make ourselves at home.  an honesty bar of other local and homemade treats awaits behind a cabinet, with a pad to jot down what you take. 

left to our own devices we were instantly whisked away into the romantic solitude of the surroundings.  it wasn’t but a few moments once we had settled into our bedroom before we found ourselves beckoned by the surrounding acreage, frolicking through the fields to the stream by the tree line ahead.  a wooden swing hangs out front, almost insisting you indulge.  it was still three hours before our reservation at town house, and we were already deep into the experience. 

the meal and the cottage both were inspiring.  with just a handful of strangers, and the extremely talented staff at town house, her and I rang in the new year about as peacefully and quietly as we know how—a table, some amazing food, and drunk on wine. 

as much writing as I do about our experience, and planning for the future, it’s not nearly as often as it should be where I just press pause and verbalize how amazingly fortunate I am.  I am in love with my soul mate, and together we are pursuing our dream.  2011 was an entire lifetime for us, and I am grateful and excited for the rebirth of 2012—it’s got big shoes to fill, and I look forward to it’s lessons.