I visited Deadwood a couple of years ago and stopped into this unassuming restraunt for dinner. I ordered a dinner salad, some sort of seafood pasta, and peanut butter pie for dessert.
I know how good food is by how much I am compelled to savor it.
I could not rush through the salad. It was too good. I was estatic with the wonderful flavors carressing my mouth. I could have eaten only salad, and I took my sweet-assed time doing so, despite the faster pace of my table mate.
Sadly, the salad experience had to end, but fortunately, the pasta was about to begin.
The salad may have been great, but the pasta was divine. I must have taken an hour eating it. I can still taste it, two years later. MMM....
Peanut Butter Pie is one of my favorite and also uncommonly eaten desserts, and after the salad and the pasta, I was excited about the the peanut butter pie...
I had to wait. There was no way that I was going to eat that pie when the delicious taste of the pasta was still marinating my tastebuds.
I was already at the culinary equivalent of post-orgasmic bliss. I couldn't take any more.
I had to get the pie to go.
After a nap, a couple of hours later, I opened up and enjoyed the pie. It did not let me down. My only complaint is that I should have waited more than two hours to eat the pie. The meal was that good.
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