While I wish I could say I was happy to be back from our vacation on LBI, I promise I won't lie to you. The sun, sand and surf were great, providing many relaxing hours on the beach, collecting shells with Ryan, playing in the sand with her and her cousins, hanging out and having a good time.
As in past years, it seems like the food we made at the house trumped anything we ordered out, especially a phenomenal night of surf & turf featuring grilled tuna steaks, barbecued spareribs, my father-in-law's to-die-for potato salad, and a wonderful calabrese salad featuring ripe Jersey tomatoes.
Alas, I did not get back to the Terrace Tavern for my beloved Terrace Stacker, but with a couple more trips before the fall settles in I should have a few opportunities to get there for a return visit.
Today, it's back to the grind... I just spent what felt like an hour cleaning up the yard after last night's brief, but powerful, summer storm and the dentist awaits. Customer orders need to be placed, voicemails have to be logged, and a layout for a client mailer needs to be, well, laid out.
But before I saddle up and begin dreaming of my next trip to the beach (40 days, but who's counting?) I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that the new (and final) issue of The Hungover Gourmet has arrived from the printer.
What you see in my hand at right – and don't worry, I was parked at the time – is our 44-page swan song, a combination mash note to and scathing indictment of coffee, plus thoughts on beer, Bud Chelada, the passing of a THG contributor, and Louis Fowler's epic struggle to feast like a king on a Big Lots budget.
Order your copy today.