For my last meal on this Earth, as a starter, I will select any one of Tyler's soups, accompanied by his warm, fresh, soft, fluffy, white bread. I will dunk the bread in the soup; the crisp, tasty crusts languishing in a mellifluous, unctuous delectability. As I chew, the perfectly baked staple will delight my taste buds, sending them into an epicurean frenzy. The flavour will raise me to new heights of pleasure, bathed in ambrosial delight.
As a counterpoint, I will select the sausage rolls, their buttery, flaky, pastry embracing the perfectly seasoned meat in an almost indecent fashion. Crunching through the perfectly baked outer crust, I will bite into the impeccably moist, faultlessly seasoned, meat; once again, I will collapse into paroxysms of luxury and satisfaction.
As I shuffle off this mortal coil and join the Choir Invisible, my last, fading, memory of my time on Earth will be the selection of pastries presented to me by the courteous and polite staff; in the background will be the ever-smiling Tyler and his lovely wife, Julia.. they will urge me to indulge in one more pastry... I won't resist .... :-)
Own or manage this property? Claim your listing for free to respond to reviews, update your profile and much more.