Monday, July 22, 2013

AS WE PUSHED OPEN

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the doors of that craft show building and strolled by that busker yesterday, it was mid-afternoon.  All four of us were famished.  So The Yard Man and I trotted along behind our Asheville hosts as they took us to Salsa's (a restaurant, just as you might astutely assume).  Ah, what a feast we savored!
My Yard Man ordered such an astounding dish that he gained an admirer from a neighboring table
(the fellow carnivore pulled out his camera and took a photo)!

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It may strain your credulity, Viewer Dear, but I can tell you the remainder of the Whole Pork Shank (alas, yo no puedo tell you the Spanish name) was still bubbling in its juices at the end of the meal (it was served in some sort of lava rock)!
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Following this lavish repast, we practically waddled out of the place.  Which once again might make it  difficult for you to believe me, Reader Dear, when I tell you that we returned to the home of David and Our Dark-Haired Daughter and then took a short walk to a frozen yogurt shop!
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On our return, we politely stepped aside for the
lean and fit joggers (whom I'm only astutely assuming were
not headed for pistachio frozen yogurt with crushed heathbar
and chocolate syrup atop).
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