Later, Sausage Dude

Too bad Sausage Dude is leaving Rosamunde to move to Toronto. At least he's moving for love, or so he says. The man knows how to twirl his tongs, and also to grill brats, merguezes, knockwursts, beer sausages, weisswursts, Hungarians and Italians, then toast the bun and pack in sauerkraut, mustard, grilled onions and/or chili. Mmmm, mmmmm. Rosamunde's is another of those cheap dives, like LPM and SSS (names withheld to protect faithful Plotnik readers), that give our city its divine lunchtime character.

Plot, Duck, Mush and Mr. Mush ate at Rosamunde's yesterday afternoon, then last night Plotnik and Ducknik went to Anne Marie's for Boeuf Daube which was tres yummieux. It was a gustatory day, but this weekend things only get better: Much wine, much food and no baseball. (Plot's lying. If there's a TV somewhere he'll be watching Saturday afternoon. But you knew that.)

(Also, he is perfectly aware that his shrine bites. Sigh.)