This past weekend was an intesnse one. Intensely fun!
I hung out with some old work friends on Friday at a friend's birthday party at Trinity Hall. Always good times at the Hall.
Michael and I invited a few friends (family, really) over for a fun night on Saturday. First, we went to Whiskey Cake for dinner. After waiting for a while, we were seated in one of the three huge rooms. (Huge for Plano dining.) We all ordered fancy cocktails and appetizers. I had the guava gimlet, which turned out to be an excellent choice.
We also ordered fried green tomatoes with remoulade, smoked salmon deviled eggs and hummus with pita bread. After devouring that, we ordered our entrees: the OMG burger (complete with spicy mayo and an onion ring), braised short ribs, ribeyes with white cheddar grits, and a roased chicken sandwich. Amazing! Then, for dessert...what else? Whiskey cake. I'd have to say, it was one of the best desserts I've had in a long time.
BUT
The highlight of the evening was the pickle that topped my cousin's roasted chicken sandwich. Yes, the pickle. (Side note: I have a serious love for pickles. I love them for their sour crunchiness, vinegary taste and briney snap.) When he tossed the obviously homemade pickle to the side, I hesitantly asked "Are you going to eat that?" (YES I AM A LADY.) It was delicious. So delicious, I stupidly asked the waiter if I could buy some to take home. Screw dessert, I'm having pickles for my nightcap! And yes, he came back with a to-go tub of homemade pickles! Thrilling! So, I've been rationing them since then. I could have asked for the recipe, but where's the fun in that?
Thanks, Jake, for ordering that chicken sandwich.
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