It has become a tradition for me to make the trek to Fozzy Bear's Bar & Grill every Christmas Eve . It's a modest place on the South side of Chicago, and I have known the proprietor of the establishment for quite a few years now.
On Christmas Eve he dons many a hat, as host, chef and mixologist. His trademark breaded shrimp and fish I look forward to all year, to savor, along with his world renown Italian sausage. Chefs the world over would kill to get his recipe, for those shrimp. And I even get to tote some home, guarding them with my life. Fearing for their safety, I end up devouring most of them on the way home.
As for pouring drinks; the man has no equal. He knows the perfect combination of water to Scotch. He is the most skilled of all, in pouring this fine elixir of the gods.
It would have been a perfect evening of food, drink and fine companionship. There was only one thing missing. That was Scooter and his patented laugh, that lights up a room whenever he enters. We both missed him, and we silently toasted to his health.
Don't ask me for directions, to find this bar & grill. It's only open one night a year; and is by invitation only.
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