Thirty-three.

Thirty-three years.

My big birthday request was a pound cake loaded with frosting from the Superstore, which I proceeded to eat for three days until new sugary products were available.

In between cake feedings, we also went to the Saint John Alehouse for supper.

And now I can say that I had random organ meat for my birthday – and it tasted delicious.

Almost as good as the cake.

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Warm Caesar salad: grilled romaine, fried croutons, parm and lots of bacon.

 

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Confit duck hearts

 

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Kentucky fried sweetbreads with hot and cool dressings.

 

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Mussels in beer, garlic and pancetta

 

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