The Salty Pig

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I don’t even know why I try to convince myself that I’ll ever really care about getting fit or eating well. My metabolism has abandoned me, and let’s face it, I’m not a salad girl, and I doubt I ever will be. I’m doomed to a life of cellulite and high waisted shorts. What can you do? Besides diet and exercise of course, because neither of those things appeal to me. You can die fat and happy, enjoying every bite along the way.

I’ve passed The Salty Pig a billion times, and I’ve always been curious. On a Sunday that I found myself with time to kill and an empty stomach, I decided to treat myself to lunch before work, and ended up at this lovely establishment. Looking at the menu, I knew I had died and gone to heaven. So much meat in so many variations, all just waiting to be in and around my mouth. That’s what she said. Anyways, I’m not going to pretend I know how to describe food or restaurants right now, but it was totally worth it, and I’d recommend it to anyone and everyone in the area that’s not on some kind of cleanse consisting of gross vegetables and smoothies made out of gross vegetables.

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