"Those who forget the pasta are condemned to reheat it." ~Unknown

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Pacific Northwesterners

     Last night Mom and Dad had their Barbecued pulled pork and bourbon party, and I thought Cy would be serving us some creatively cooked leftovers.  I was wrong.  While I was wandering the neighbor with my friends; a German exchange student (are you a berliner?); and one of my friend's cousins from Utah, Cy was earning twenty bucks playing his trumpet on a street corner and started making burgers.  By the time I got back, the burgers were moments from coming off the grill and I was hungry.

    In addition to the burgers, we had a salad, hobo pack potatoes, fizzinis, and for dessert, grilled fruit.  Nice and quick, tonight's burgers kept the cooking outside on a day that had us Pacific Northwesterners searching for cooler, wetter climes.  (We're kind of like worms, if you leave us in the Sun too long we dry up and die).  Pacific Northwesterners are strange people.

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