Food 4EVA
A few weeks past, some friends invited me to an annual Food Festival in Santiago. They had been invited by the mayor and it was quite a prestigious affair. We made a merry group of about 15.
Basically, it was over 100 of the best restaurants from the Monterrey area setting up around the town's center plaza and having a giant buffet.
It was good from every angle. Mild weather, good friends, stimulating conversation, lots of beer and most of all:
Roast Goat. (see below)
THIS is something that you see quite a bit of in Mexico and frankly, it tickles my fancy.
My overactive imagination kicks in and I fancy feasting in the yo'ho days, trencher full of stewed eel and naturally, roast goat. Frothing mug of dark ale in reach.
Obviously, since I'm a chick, I'd have to be the twin sister of the young rebel lord. Fiesty and sought-after.
As we sit feasting and singing bawdry tavern tunes...
my suitors killing each other for my favor, I lean to my brother and inquire as to the fate of the knave, Max.
The evening waxes and wanes and as our entourage leaves I'm confronted by a drunk man who babbles in a strange language that I look like some wench, "Nicole Kidman". I grimace inwardly but ettiquette demands I smile and nod politely. We disappear into the night, while Drunken Buffoon yells "Nicole! Nicole!" after my retreating form.
He is put to death shortly following.
All in all t'was a heap of fun, my belly was full and the memory will last 4EVA.
Basically, it was over 100 of the best restaurants from the Monterrey area setting up around the town's center plaza and having a giant buffet.
It was good from every angle. Mild weather, good friends, stimulating conversation, lots of beer and most of all:
Roast Goat. (see below)
THIS is something that you see quite a bit of in Mexico and frankly, it tickles my fancy.
My overactive imagination kicks in and I fancy feasting in the yo'ho days, trencher full of stewed eel and naturally, roast goat. Frothing mug of dark ale in reach.
Obviously, since I'm a chick, I'd have to be the twin sister of the young rebel lord. Fiesty and sought-after.
As we sit feasting and singing bawdry tavern tunes...
my suitors killing each other for my favor, I lean to my brother and inquire as to the fate of the knave, Max.
The evening waxes and wanes and as our entourage leaves I'm confronted by a drunk man who babbles in a strange language that I look like some wench, "Nicole Kidman". I grimace inwardly but ettiquette demands I smile and nod politely. We disappear into the night, while Drunken Buffoon yells "Nicole! Nicole!" after my retreating form.
He is put to death shortly following.
All in all t'was a heap of fun, my belly was full and the memory will last 4EVA.
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