I am sorry I can't get bqck for the Wales Japan game in a fortnight.
Read this homage to the Big Easy and remember simpler days.
We break the masking tape holding our sandwiches at bay. Each one rolls out an over-stuffed glorious mess. The duck is so drenched in gravy that it has already passed the limit of its structural integrity. I gaze over at the shrimp, and I know that where I’m going, there won’t be seafood like this. This has to be a full pound of fried shrimp stuffed into twelve inches of bread. I do the math in my head and my heart sinks a little. What would it cost me to make this in the country where I’m headed?
Who says nostalgia isn't what it used to be?