The Tin Angel is a club in Philadelphia that measures about 12 feet wide by about I don’t know feet long. (Not many).
It’s dark. On Saturday is was smoky because Clarence likes him some smoke.
We had a great dinner downstairs at Serrano first.
Then we had some of this.
Some of that in a dark, smoky place after a great meal is just enough to remind you of who you used to be before you filled your brainpan up with carpool schedules and laundry and just enough to remind you of who you still are so that you can return home again with some real estate in your brainpan cleared out and marked with a big sign that says, “RESERVED FOR THINGS BEAUTIFUL AND MINE ALL MINE.”