In jolly London town, you've got to frolic the streets at night for a vibe contrary to that during sunlight. Something about the street lights and led screens flirting with time square spark a fresh feeling. You've never known nightlife like London's and i advise you introduce yourself. Paintings and cinema portrayals can't touch it. Speak easy's, nightclubs, pastry shops, and a Time Square feel with lights and advertisements for consumerism. Crossing the illuminated crosswalk, I heard a confident Male voice projecting over my shoulder. I couldn't duplicate it if you paid me. While trying to continue crossing the street and figure out what language was pitched in my direction, since there was no one in front of me, my eyes shifted to my right peripherals. Failing to get a good look at the dark, curly haired man, I jolted my shoulders to the right, bringing my head with it. A pleasant-looking man in his late-twenties (if I had to guess) looked through my oversized frames onto my green eyes. "Italiano, no?" We were still in the process of crossing the street. I know, long street... or the liquor was just kicking in ;) Smiling by the compliment, I responded, "No. American. " "Ohhhh. Americano!" a chorus of guys sang. As we made it to the other side of the street, that's when I noticed his three, most likely Italian, friends. I couldn't help but think that this is what Mario and his friends would look like on a night out. I'm not quite as buxom, but you get the picture;) "Mario," the one that had mistaken me as an Italian, had rosy cheeks, fair skin (but not fairest of them all) and curly midnight hair. His hair was just short enough to fit under... I don't know, say a newsboy red hat? Laughing, I said, "We don't usually get that reaction..." "What? We love Americans." We engaged in a bit of conversation while walking to the same club. "Gosh, I love your accent." "What? My accent? I don't have one." "Oh it's so cute." "I really don't..." I stopped myself as my eyes searched the faces of his Italian friends. They were smiling and listening intently. This is really bizarre. After waiting in a pretty long que (line. Yeah, I wasn't familiar with that term either. The Brits and Irish use it on the daily), they followed me into the club and congregated in a dim cove of the club. The lighting was mostly faded lanterns and infrared type of lights. Luigi hung around for a few more sentences and then disappeared into the club. Mario said I need to go to Sicily, which is where he hails from. He smiled and leaned in, but then fear struck his face when he realized his friends weren't around him. "I have to go!" He exclaimed, hitting the brick wall beside him. And I'll be dammed if a mushroom didn't come out! I think it was an old shiitake. He was off and I felt like tipsy princess Daisy, delighted that someone found my accent enticing. Sweet and satisfying, this datesandcakes interaction is best paralleled to m'nms.This Italian proved guys are perfectly capable of complimenting a girl without it being derivative or having an ulterior meaning.
For this recipe, the cake is perfectly assembled, por flavor. Haha oh yeah, am not in Spain this weekend.... any flavor cake and frosting your sugar-heart desires. Then, grab the colorful candy that melts in your mouth, not your hand (I call bs on that.... tiedye hands in '98). Even if you've been drinking, or felt like you've hit a brickwall, carefully arrange colors in the shape of Mario's figure. Be wary of gumbas (roommates or munchies making your carefully planned colors disappear before they make it to the cake). Level Up, London!
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AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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