by Casey Barber
December 15, 2011
“He circles around my legs like a furry shark the minute the chicken hits the counter, places himself strategically behind my feet in hopes I’ll trip and drop an entire roasted bird onto the floor, and yowls for his cut of meat until the last bite is sealed away in Tupperware and he can’t smell it anymore.”
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by Casey Barber
December 12, 2011
“It’s sort of an edible shot glass for my favorite brunch drink, dousing crunchy celery in vodka, horseradish, and Worcestershire sauce before stuffing the soaked-up bits into fresh grape tomatoes.”
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