The other day I was casting about the kitchen for sustenance and, seeing that the larder held all the necessary ingredients, I took the plunge and whipped myself up a prototype copy of Elvis’ favorite sandwich… mashed bananas, peanut butter and bacon layered between two slices of cheap, spongy white bread and then buttered and pan fried. Served hot, a sort of dessert, a tasty delight… thank you very much.
Yesterday we went downtown, wallowing in the holiday spirit, to see what Surf City had to offer. Granted it was a lot more like Singing in the Rain than Walking in a Winter Wonderland and the Barnes & Noble Bookstore where we planned to burn a hole in our holiday gift card magically transformed itself into a Borders Books but we had a rollicking good time and the lovely Tama bought me a dandy maroon snap-brim fedora for Jesus’ birthday.
Apparently that Elvis fave stuck to my mind as well as my ribs because, when we lunched late at the Surfrider CafĂ©, I threw caution to the wind and ordered their Skippyburger. Fresh sourdough bun, hamburger, Monterey Jack cheese, bacon and peanut butter… served with shoestring fries and a pint of local beer it was a meal fit for a (the) king.
Now all I have to do is to track down someplace called The Parish Publick House which, rumor has it, serves something called The Belushi. A burger with bleu cheese, aged Irish cheddar, American cheese, and bacon… assembled and then beer battered and deep fried. Either that or maybe the veggie burger and a salad.
Fleas Navidad…
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