
You should have gathered by now that I live to eat. Hell, I run marathons to eat in the style to which I’ve become accustomed.
Last week, I had this phenomenal meal from Skillet. It made my week. I set the bar way too high when I saw the grilled gouda would be available all over again. Oh, well, expectation readjustment was probably a good idea. By the time I’d walked back to my desk from the trailer, it’d been 10 minutes and the sandwich had started the sog. Things just weren’t as crisp and bright. Grilled cheese, imho, can be hard to get right. Last week’s experience benefited from a sad rendition the week before, at Jules Mae’s Saloon. GC holds a special place in my heart, as my father used to make them for me at lunch on weekends. He had his greatest hits.
(I got the poutine, as a side. Also good, but not what it was.)
What a gray day. Seattle’s other season has arrived.
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The “lets drown ourselves in comfort food” season?