A little over thirty years ago I lived in Juneau, Alaska. I was 9 almost 10 when we moved there, 11 almost 12 when we left. While we were living there we often frequented a Mexican restaurant called Fernando’s. My mother’s favorite dish was a tostada. Of course dad retired, we moved, but mom never forgot that tostada. Now, over 30 years later, she still craves it and has been unsuccessful at recreating it. Of course now with the internet and cell phones and being able to bridge the distance of thousands of miles with ease I have been set off on a quest. I found a phone number for the restaurant, but it is disconnected. Hoping this was a typo or an out of date phone number I decided to call another business in the area. The one place that I could think of that I knew the name of and thought would still be there was the hotel we lived in for the first 30 days we were in Juneau. The Prospector Hotel, I can still see the sign in my mind and can still see the room, with its little kitchenette. I remember a lady that worked there all those years ago, she was the housekeeper. And each day when she would come to clean our room and the others she would talk to me and listen to me. I remember whenever she would move floors we would race, she on the elevator and I on the stairs. Today I spoke to Patrick, a very helpful young man. I imagine him telling this story to his friends or family, the strangest call he ever got. As it turns out Fernando’s closed just a couple of years ago. He said it was an old family and that they had closed up shop. The building is boarded up now, empty. That makes me sad. I stayed on the phone with him, explaining my dilemma, thinking this would be the end of the road. I am glad that sometimes what I think is wrong. I never would have thought about it, but Patrick suggested the Chamber of Commerce. I have a call in to them now. Waiting for either a call back or an e-mail. That will be part 2 of my tale. And what a wonderful tale this will be if it ends up with a tostada my mom can enjoy.