Today and tomorrow are now unexpected days off. I may have no plans and could probably only afford the mildest of entertainment, but it still feels damned good. I have about a million books to get through anyway, and a a full pack of smokes. That pretty much makes this go time.
Yesterday, I indulged in a new local eatery that goes by the name of Five Guys Burgers And Fries. As a wannabe carnivore (but reluctant omnivore) I have to recommend this place. Don't expect any fancy presentation or to stay clean while eating. This is taste that simply does not to be dressed up. We're talking about a double helping of quality meat on a soft bun, held together with a potentially illegal amount of cheese, wrapped in tin foil and handed over in an unmarked brown paper bag that is not ashamed of grease. And trust me, you only need one if you're getting the fries, too. I've never in my life been curious about where in the world my potato-made french fries have come from until I walked into this place. Sure as shit, they tell you on a little dry erase board where today's tater shipment came from. On top of that, this place isn't stingy with the bagglers, the fries that straggle behind in the bag after you pull the actual order out. The amount still lingering in your soggy brown bag account for an entire second fucking order of the things.
Oh, and free peanuts while you wait. Beat that, Sonic!
Yesterday, I indulged in a new local eatery that goes by the name of Five Guys Burgers And Fries. As a wannabe carnivore (but reluctant omnivore) I have to recommend this place. Don't expect any fancy presentation or to stay clean while eating. This is taste that simply does not to be dressed up. We're talking about a double helping of quality meat on a soft bun, held together with a potentially illegal amount of cheese, wrapped in tin foil and handed over in an unmarked brown paper bag that is not ashamed of grease. And trust me, you only need one if you're getting the fries, too. I've never in my life been curious about where in the world my potato-made french fries have come from until I walked into this place. Sure as shit, they tell you on a little dry erase board where today's tater shipment came from. On top of that, this place isn't stingy with the bagglers, the fries that straggle behind in the bag after you pull the actual order out. The amount still lingering in your soggy brown bag account for an entire second fucking order of the things.
Oh, and free peanuts while you wait. Beat that, Sonic!
syh:
Sounds delicious!