Part one of the series Unwavering Citrust. The cinnamon variety is a steadfast shelf occupant; the coveted orange flavor was merely a myth whispered about in distant warehouses. Then, suddenly, Tamalehawk started seeing this anomalous offering popping up on supermarket shelves after years of fruitless searching. He likes to attribute its reappearance on the market to his dogged pursuit, confident that he single-handedly nudged public demand high enough to create supply ripples on the Pillsbury corporate radar. It was very similar to how Tommy Lee Jones is always hunting someone in every movie. Undeniable proof that if you flap your wings dejectedly in the dim glow of enough refrigerated displays, someone will eventually take note of your awkward tantrum and quietly resign to shut you up.
His citrust soared again after eating the veal osso bucco at Erba. Following an excellent white bean and rocket bruschetta, the orange-laced interpretation of the classic left Tamalehawk reeling as he clawed at the pillow-soft veal shank. The shank! The most reviled of all cuts, too similar to the natural leg to be consumed without shuddering! It would have been a real turning point had he not been too busy shoveling shank into his beak to turn. He's 3 for 3 with Erba, for those counting. Update: Erba is totally closed.
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