How was the food?
I had a chimney cake that was so soft and fluffy I had to rub it all over my face.
I had Langos. A fried dough with sour cream and cheese. I think it’s better than pizza. Shhh don’t tell Italy.
I ate soup and potatoe macaroni with sheep cheese and bacon. Made in a home, just for us. The only ones in the restaurant.
I had ghoulash that I barely tasted. I inhaled it after a long day in the cold. I believe it touched my taste buds before entering my stomach.
I had a chocolate chip cookie that was like a dough ball baked just for me.
I had a pumpkin spice latte that tasted like a warm hug.
I ate strudel that was crumbly and warm and sweet while watching the man make them in the shop from scratch.
I ate a strange combination of pretzel and blackberry. But he gave us a dried berry from “underground” because we were nice.
I ate a pumpkin coconut seed cake whose recipe couldn’t be shared because it was the family secret. “I would eat this for Christmas breakfast.”
I ate an apple as big as my face and mixed fruit that tasted like candy.
I had a hot chocolate. Mmm I can still remember the cardamom. Just a hint on top of a melted chocolate bar with whipped cream and chocolate shavings.
I ate a Mediterranean bowl with all the spices and flavors you could ever imagine.
I ate a donut hole that was fluffier than a cloud.
I ate scrambled eggs with a salad and dressing that made me drool.
I ate perigees that should be illegal they were so good. Paired with sausage, and soup and bread. Put those all together and you have an explosion happening in your mouth.
I ate. I ate. I ate I ate. I can’t tell if my pants are looser or my butt is bigger. But for sure my heart is bigger so that’s all that matters.
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