Swimming in Wine

I had the pleasure of dining, or rather, drinking and having appetizers at The Tractor Room. For those of you who don't know, they have a huge variety of specialty drinks that are, for all intents and purposes, original AND yummy.

I had a watermelon beverage flavored with mint. It was cool and refreshing and quite intoxicating. In fact, I managed to become quite tipsy from just ONE.

My companion had ordered a rather dry red wine, of which I am ashamed to say, I can't remember the name of. That's right, my darling fans, I am teetering on the edge of menopause and great blanks fill my mind, the way buffalo used to fill the Great Plains.

And speaking of buffalo, and other exotic edibles, I ate wild boar AND elk. The boar was in an eggroll filled with meat and potatoes, served on a salad with a vinegar based dressing (not sure what it was, not exactly balsamic, something else, but it was very tangy). The elk in a ravioli that was rather crisp on the outside, was it supposed to be crisp?

But the fantasy was this: when I sipped my companion's wine, I felt the urge to miniaturize myself, and dive down into the glass, completely starkers.

As we left, there were little samples outside, boar and polenta. The polenta was perfectly fried and smelled heavenly.

"I like how you smelled it first," the young man in charge of the samples said.

Of course, I could not resist the urge to bring another fan into the fold and told him to Google me. I am after all, very Googleable.

I remain,

Hilda Stinson