Let’s just say that the very first thing I did during the service portion more or less guaranteed that I wouldn’t walk out with my Certified pin in hand. It was ugly.
My happy over-achiever psyche is gnashing because I really do want to know where I finished. I’m used to 90s and above, so this makes me crazy. But don’t get me wrong…I passed! I’m happy!
When I was growing up in Philly, the corner butcher shop was a neighborhood mainstay. It has since been replaced by agribusinesses producing hormone-and-antibiotic injected Frankenbeasts. It feels great to purchase meats that have the flavors that I remember from my childhood.
After the presentation, a couple of people came up to me and thanked me for asking what they had been thinking – that the over-matured bourbon, just by the very nature of its age, complexity, and tannic structure, was by far the most interesting of the lot. It was okay for me to bring it up I guess. I’m a wine person!
You may be thinking, “Irene you nitwit! You live in Las Vegas! What’s the big deal?” The big deal is that just because I live here doesn’t mean that I actually *go* here. Like many locals, I have a certain snobbery when it comes to hanging at The Strip. So for two weeks, I went to Vegas! On The Strip, baby!