Photo by Alexanderphoto7 / Shutterstock.com quantum of pepper in a Bloody Mary so perfectequates tipsy to happyrolling down my throatin jeeps of pinwheel candyseducing stomachyou Sir be a fine mess belly blushing a baby’s pinkmy frame a door to seaweed pleasure to...
The same guy who gave Ron Swanson a snifter at Lagavulin was the same guy who taught me how to pull whiskey from a barrel, a skill I’ve never used since. In 2016, he was smaller than on TV, only to my shoulder, and I wondered how we shrank over time and in real life,...
“The Mutton Lane Inn entrance” by cotitoo is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0 I’m just after kissing you goodbye on Patrick Street and maybe it’s the lingering press of your lips on mine, or the pint rejuvenating the leftover buzz of last night, or the Amber...
Photo by Boston Public Library / CC BY-NC 2.0 We show our love by slurping oysters, three dozen to be exact—two dozen raw and unadorned, a dozen served “dirty,” splattered with sour cream, red onion and red lump caviar. All doused with lemon and Tabasco. Dad and I are...
