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| Happy Hour spread |
Chicharrones for a dollar. And corn. Oh the corn. It was covered in crema and cotija and chicarrones. Let's have a close up.
It was one of the richest things I've eaten in a long time.
The corn also made me think of my dad. He really liked sweet corn. As kids, he would scold us for not eating every single kernal off of the cob. Corn wasn't something that one wasted. And we would scrape until our gums were sore to try and avoid his disdain. And then, to add insult to injury, he would take our finished cobs and do another pass, because there was no way we could ever properly eat corn on the cob.
This corn would have pleased him. And even though I thoroughly succeeded in eating my corn, I know he would have taken my bare cobs and polished them off, just the same.
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