The Franklin Cafe: Just like sex, only clothed and at the table

Seriously every time I eat at the Franklin Cafe I leave feeling like I just had the most amazing sex ever.

Evil Twin and I went for dinner on the spur of the moment and our default restaurant of choice when we are not broke is definitely the Franklin.

We started with the pan-smoked mussels with clarified butter. I think that they salt the mussels a little with a salt & crack mixture to make them extra delicious. Plus two glasses of Oyster Bay Sauvignon which immediately hit the spot.

I had the seared local cod with sweet pea risotto and Evil Twin had the steak frites. And then I had most of her frites and to boot I smeared them with the roquefort butter that came with the steak. Because wine makes me forget all about Weight Watchers....

You know what? I am a dreadful glutton who completely deserves to have absurdly high cholesterol.

Anyway, we then both ordered a second glass of the Oyster Bay and because our waiter had the retentive memory of a guppy, we got something completely different than the first round. But oh well. He was very nice, perfectly attentive, and that made up for the wine flub.

Let me just state for the record that I had the best time with the E.T. and found out that even though she is my YOUNGER sibling, she is not as dumb as previously suspected and actually knows a thing or two or ten about life that I did not have to show her! Who knew!

Well I guess that means that the playing field has finally leveled out. Phew!

Although I will never fail to remind her of the stinky raisin up the nose story and if she ever gets around to marrying the Trapper Keeper, that is the story I will trot out for the toast.

I am just saying....


tammy said…
Here's my shameful admission of the day: I've never been to the Franklin. You can remove me from your blogroll now.
Annabelle B. said…

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