Pickled and Spoken For

I love a good dining experience. Infuse the vodka with the food and I love it even more. Some might say I have a love affair with food. I would say my affair is more physical than anything and, when it comes to a love affair, they are probably confusing me with Live Longer.

 

As Live Longer and I dined at a cozy Russian restaurant in Manhattan decorated with jars of infused vodka and pickled goods, getting pickled on the vodka, Live Longer gazed out the open window at a basket of fresh vegetables.

 

“You just love those, don’t you?” I said to her. “I do,” she replied. I reverted to the fourth grade and said, “Why don’t you marry them?” “I would, but my heart is already spoken for. I’m in a relationship with cheese.” “Well you wouldn’t want to do anything that would make cheese Bleu. Maybe Swiss can perform the ceremony to enter you into holey matrimony.”

 

I Cantal if she and cheese are serious enough to marry and, eventually, have a Babybel.  Regardless, I wish them a very Gouda life.

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