Word: chickens
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...cold trek up Mass Ave. The Common serves up a baked meatloaf with mashed potatoes, gravy and a seasonal vegetable, the perfect combination to combat arctic temperatures. To spice up a traditional beef stew, the chef stirs in a thick Guinness draft. Homemade gravy-drenched chicken pot pies far outclass their frozen counterparts, and the restaurant’s generous helpings will keep you satiated as you prepare for a winter-long hibernation. There’s no hurry to rush back to campus, either—the restaurant’s cozy Lizard Lounge Music Club stays...
...real loser. It’s the middle of November. You’ve been working hard, so hard that you forget to do basic things like brush your teeth. Your blue jeans are stiff from six continuous weeks of wear, and your Harvard hoodie reeks of curry chicken, last night’s preferred dinner option. Rather than wash it you spray on another layer of cologne. You smell like a stale perfume sample in Vanity Fair and your once smooth complexion is rough with stubble and acne.” The Ghost takes me to late November...
...below Quincy House, within the confines of chicken-wire and concrete, among amplifiers and pipes, approximately a dozen people convened to witness yet another Quincy Cage show...
Guests dined on chicken and pasta, wined on the open bar, and toasted to five decades of Larry. Two of Summers’ former colleagues from his Treasury days in Washington gave a powerpoint presentation detailing “What it’s like to work for Larry,” and his brother toasted him with a soliloquy: “To Drink or Not Drink Diet Coke...
...once referred to vegetarians as "the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit." The book is written in the same brusque style, and its language can get a little profane. The introduction to poulet rti gently proclaims, "If you can't properly roast a damn chicken then you're one helpless, hopeless, sorry-ass bivalve in an apron." Pearl onions are "little f____ers." And butter should be formed into a log "like you would roll a joint" for the faux-filet au beurre rouge. Betty Crocker...