This chicken got sprung on parole after about nine months on ice. No one knew he was out. He didn't even call his family. He just collected his personal effects and moved on down to the fridge. A free bird. Got a job, was minding his own business, but before you know it he was running with the wrong crowd again. Thyme and butter and paprika and those dudes. In the oven in no time. Sad story, happens every day.
What else. Tamalehawk executed a second order from his new Chinese take-out place, Silver Seafood. He keeps wanting to say Silver Surfer. This time around, the sesame chicken, moo shu pork, fried rice, and egg rolls all made solid appearances. Also, the hot and sour soup is outstanding. He is pretty sure there is octopus in there but it's so fresh and good he eats it all anyway. Added bonus: for the second time, the delivery man has found a way to slip past the locked front gate and make it all the way to Tamalehawk's front door undetected. The sharp knock is enough to scare him half to death, but he'll trade that for having to trudge out in the snow any day.
As much as I love Yuen's in The Rog, they have forsaken the sacred art of moo shu. It is conspicuously absent from the menu, a crime for which I almost cannot forgive them. Almost.
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