by Jennifer Cannon

Created on: July 12, 2008   Last Updated: July 13, 2008

Several years ago, on a gorgeous summer evening, my grandparents made the journey from the valley to the mountains where I lived for a weekend getaway. My boyfriend and I planned to meet them at a great steak restaurant we knew they would love, which was located in the village within walking distance of their hotel. It was a lakeside restaurant fashioned after a boathouse, and featured booths made from vintage wooden Chris Craft boat hulls. They served the best Surf and Turf on the mountain and we hadn't been out for a nice meal in a while. This was going to be a real treat.

The four of us dined on steak and seafood dishes and enjoyed a nice bottle of red wine. We took in the view of the lake and chatted about the novelties of living in a resort town. The restaurant was about half full, and as I looked out over the dining room I noticed a kind of haze, or was it the wine? No, it was definitely a haze, like the kind you see when they bring out a sizzling plate of fajitas; only they did not serve fajitas. Hmmm. Interesting.
After about thirty seconds, I noticed other people noticing the haze, which was starting to look a lot more like smoke, but no one seemed overly concerned about this. At this point, we were feeling fat and happy, what a fantastic meal that had been. We started thinking about getting the check and were still wondering what the deal was with the smoke.
Just as we started seriously looking around for someone to inquire about the possibility that there could be a fire in the kitchen, the hostess came walking briskly but calmly through the dining room to confirm there was indeed a fire and everyone needed to get the hell out! I mean, she said that yes, we all needed to exit in a quick and orderly fashion.
While we did not waste any time in leaving, we were sort of wondering about how we were going to pay the check, but realized it might be a moot point in a few minutes. We stood outside on a nearby dock, as Gram was very curious to see what was going to go down.
It quickly became clear that the situation was a bit more serious. Apparently, the fire started from a dirty grease trap (great) and soon there were big black clouds of smoke and fire coming through the roof! It was time to move along.
As the four of us made our way to the stairs that led to the upper level of the village (an outdoor shopping area), I felt a slight rumbling in my stomach. I didn't think much of it until about a minute later, as my grandparents discussed the possibility

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