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 It has since been replaced by agribusinesses producing hormone-and-antibiotic injected Frankenbeasts.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.
Now this combination is the essence of food and wine. This why people over millennia have embraced the combination where each one complements and lifts the other, making the whole far greater than the two individual parts. Kinda like 50+50=150.
I had planned to videotape the entire event only to discover that the SD card wasn’t in the camera. So much for photographic memory. I had no film.
Apparently Food Network has enough commas in the paycheck or enough contract lawyers on retainer to make that little annoying trait called self-respect irrelevant.
This is the time of year when the words “hot soup” can cause a smiling physical reaction. Even in Las Vegas it’s very cold (25°F when I left for work this morning), and the vision of curling up with a blanket and a bowl of hot soup is oh so comforting.