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You might be asking yourself what Angie Dickinson has to do with St. Andrew's Day. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Not as good as it was. Better than it will be.
I'm looking forward to Wes Anderson's, "Fantastic Mr. Fox." I saw the trailer and immediately thought of this bizarre British taxidermy from an even more bizarre volume in the Trad library, The Saturday Book published in 1953. My friends in London sure like to knock Yanks...but...as far as I know, playing house with stuffed rats is all their own.
I bought those braces in Lord & Taylor years ago. And like the Duke, I paid handsomely but expected a long life in return. Twenty two years isn't bad. They're a little narrow, which was the style then, but who cares - - They're unique, good looking and I've never seen them on anyone else. It will be my mission in life to insure they don't wind up in some hipster's closet who had $2 to spend in a thrift store. These will go to an appreciative home I already know.
Stouts always remind me of a fox and Brooklyn Lager's, Black Chocolate Stout is no exception. Whether it's sitting by the fire place at the Red Fox Inn and being surrounded by more fox art than you can shake a riding crop at -- or -- whether it's seeing a red fox in the woods...amazingly small, deceptively agile and seemingly always up to no good...kind'a like me. At 10% alcohol- it's deceptive alright and dangerous. Huge creamy and thick. More body than my old favorite Imperial Stout by Samuel Smith ... this Stout goes down far too easily but, like a good vintage Port, I can't think of anything better to savor by a fire on a winter's night with Stilton and walnuts while I listen to 'The Fox' by Odetta.