Waking up with zero groceries in the fridge is a tragedy I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. My coffee maker decided to stage a strike this morning, which meant venturing out into the wild was my only option.
Thankfully, wandering around Arizona has taught me one crucial life lesson: the best food comes from places with faded neon signs and vinyl booths that have seen decades of gossip.
I stumbled into a local joint last week, ordered a standard breakfast, and accidentally received a platter of eggs and biscuits large enough to feed a small medieval village. My belt gave up halfway through, and honestly, I have zero regrets…