Saturday: dinner at Capocaccia with friends from university. Then Primitivo, softball-sized burrata, brown butter agnalotti, Amarone. Then back to the lair. Then Merlot, Zinfandel. Then something…um, French? Then impromptu cleaning. Then a note that said Sale al Truffulo. Then Lagavulin and (je pense) Dalwhinnie. Then a cab.
Sunday: ouch. Then McDonald’s. Then season 2 of Breaking Bad.
Not elegant. But effective.
4 thoughts on “Huntsman”
Wait, you went out after we left Collins? You are some crazy dudes…
What? No. The cab that followed the scotch is what took us home.
Whew. The ‘Then’ in the second sentence threw me off. You forgot the Truro wine, it was the hub that pulled it all together…
I think I’ve forgotten a great deal about that evening, post-Caymus.