Last night's delightful fare was quite memorable to say the least. For beginners, I found the garden salad very light and delicate to my lips and it's gentle but crisp teasing tickling sensations only had me longing for more, much more.

Then the pasta salad with it's dreamy, creamy, and delectably textured noodles darting in and out of my mouth, shallow at first, then deeply, seemed to be playing Bolero on my very impressionable and wanton tongue. As my appetite became unbearable, a hunger vibrated through my body weakening my restraints and in a near delirious fog, I reached out to the most dripping moist, fall apart tender, smoke-ring laden pulled pork sandwich of my entire frickin' life.

The thick, heady aroma tenderly stroked the deepest reaches of my insatiable pallet and I yearned for the constricting sensations that gently tugged away at the farthest reaches of my taste buds. I was spellbound and let completely go of the familiar in order to be carried into the explosive ecstasy of sheer culinary delight. The continued slow, deliberate and steady rhythm, chewing each delectable bite eventually quickened into an urgent crescendo which carried me into the dynamic but seldom realized outermost orbit of fulfillment.


Afterwards, as I wiped the flavor rich drippings from the corners of my mouth, I slowly descended back to earth and basked in the aftermath awash with the warm mellow glow of complete satisfaction.


So very sorry I missed dessert.
-Scott Cawood