Ambrosial

Every now and then I agree to wax my mustache, slip on a dress, don a pair of painful (but beautiful!) heels, go to a nice restaurant, and feign being familiar with the wine offerings. These are the criteria of an adult female human, n’est-ce pas? Besides which, I have a bathroom full of makeup that needs rationalizing.

This week I went to Staplehouse for the first time, and it lived up to the hype. The service was great, the atmosphere was welcoming and comfortable, and the food was…delicious. Gah, delicious is so basic–what’s wrong with me? The food was mouthwatering and delectable. Heavenly? I don’t know, man. I’m not a food critic. The food was…ambrosial. The thesaurus says that means delightful. We’ve all learned a new word today. You’re welcome.

I ate liver, kids. Beautifully presented liver. And okra. Foods I had long since condemned. And I recommend those things to you. I recommend that you eat chicken liver. I don’t know who I am anymore. Actually, that’s not true. I’m the girl who put on a red lip, enjoyed some chicken liver and Beaujolais, and who’s now sitting on her couch in a robe eating Twizzlers. What can I say? I’m well-rounded.

If you happen to go to Staplehouse (or have already been) let me know what you think!

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