It was the proverbial dark and stormy night this evening, the stuff about which melodramatic and lurid Victorian novels were penned. But we were just dropping our godson off at home and getting some gas at Wawa. That name always cracks up people unfamiliar with the chain convenience stores. Think 7-11 but better. However, saying, "I'm going to Wawa" still makes me feel faintly infantile.
Tonight was one of those serendipitous evenings. Sometimes you can plan to do something, look forward to going to a restaurant for a week and not be too impressed. OR you can get gas in the pouring cold rain and happen upon the best Mexican food you've eaten east of San Diego.
I had zuccini fajitas and Professor Bremer had the Mexican burrito. The food was superb...fantastic guacamole, our waiter Luis from Guatamala was lovely and the bill didn't break the bank. The best part was that I left feeling that I had not only had a delcious meal, but I had eaten in a way that is kind to my body as well.
And the evening didn't seem so cold and dreary after all.
