Ain't Nothin' But a Whole Fish, Baby

Subtitled: Seeing Red

Sarah is cool. She's dating a Croatian. Which means whole roasted, salt-crusted fish done like it ain't no thang. See that giant red snapper? I'll admit I was scared. No need. Its dead, roasted eyes cooked into its head, and the flesh got all tender and juicy and succulent and not remotely fishy. It may have been the best home-cooked fish I've ever had.

Then we continued on the red theme with all these luscious red vegetables roasted again (bless Sarah and her not-as-sultry-as-mine apartment which somehow remained fairly cool despite the oven reaching over 400 degrees for a solid 45 minutes).

And THEN--during a heated (haha, get it! *heated*! i mean shit it was hot out) debate on Obama, she unveiled the coup de grace, a Saveur-special Hungarian sour cherry cake with lemon gelato that was so delectable I shoved about three entire pieces in my mouth the next day, with no regard for Josiah and his desire to sample some.

Garrrr. Sarah is a really, really good cook.