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My life was changed. I have found my last banquet.

 

What? No, I’m not dying. I just said that if I headed to the deadly injection room, I knew how I wanted to spend my last culinary moment – in Eatonville.

Pork-Guilt & Southern Hospitality

My life was changed. I have found my last banquet.

What? No, I’m not dying. I just said that if I headed to the deadly injection room, I knew how I wanted to spend my last culinary moment – in Eatonville.

Wild and crazy pearls have called it “Nordstrom Low-Cumes cuisine” & posted a photo of foodie so delicious I could barely refuse; @Missallisong & @ rope dining of dining from a rocking chair sealing the deal. So tonight, I am happy to accept the invitation to join friends on their Eatonville streets, challenging snowstorms (“OMG! We got, like, two inches of snow! Stay in your home & save food like that Y2K! “) Make it a reality. Midwesterner will travel to the dirty south experience for dinner.

There are still 16 minutes Happy Hour in books when we arrived, so I ordered adults & sexy (gray goose, pomegranate & lemonade) at a price half. Even though the name sounds like the subject line from the post that you will find in the Craigslist casual meeting section, the drink is only $ 5 & very tasty that @weiserjaj ordered the second round before finishing first. I, of course, take care of the mine throughout eating because – don’t you pay attention to? – I’m Wuss.

All good. Seriously, everything. I am troubling three side dishes:

  1. a kind of uber-cheesy mac & cheese with top baked goods, like creme brûlée cheesy – type fatten-you-up, as if I needed it!
  2. John Colorful Hoppin, which will feel more amazing tomorrow when mixed with my latest obsession, Sriracha
  3. Sweet potatoes & andouille sausage hash, A.K.A. The best thing I have ever put into my mouth (yes, yes, that’s what he said). Sorry, fellow tribal members – every prospective shame of a 100% pig drowned by my joy. Somewhere, a pig in heaven screamed with a joy that he provided my taste happily.

Our server (we ate at the bar) was the coat of southern hospitality or the symbol hit us. He jovial, generous & interested in joining our “missing” discussion – & also in giving us some free, including cornbread (I want to eat this every day) & a little absininth (hallucinations not included, very disappointed – “Moulin Rouge, “You lie to me). YES, PLEASE. He asks if we will come back tomorrow, & if eating it doesn’t cost like a pretty cents (okay, it’s only $ 22), I’ll be all.

In short, while this is one of the most fluent blog posts I have ever written, I don’t even care because I still have high food from the delicacy owned by Eatonville. Let’s go there. I’m in love.

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