Tomorrow is Greek Easter. Some of you have heard about this most amazing of days from me before, but for those who have not, I offer you this moist, delicious morsel of a Greek Easter tale.
It was a day like any other. I had just finished surfing a shark through lava, leaping through twenty two consecutive laser hoops and pole vaulting over some razorthorns using a pole that was also made of laser, no biggie.
Anyway my dad came home, and told me to go get lamb out of the back of his truck.
For those unfamiliar with A.) This holiday and B.) My father, it should be noted that any time he references an animal in this way, it could easily be a small portion or the entire animal. This was the latter.
So I go to the truck and take the whole lamb out, and bring it to the kitchen. I go downstairs, where I am assaulted with a loud banging. I can only imagine what's going on, but I was to get a taste (badum PSH) soon.
He called me upstairs to look at a letter that came from Uconn warning him about Spring Weekend (I didn't tell my dad what it was about because he would have been disappointed there was an entire weekend of partying I was planning on avoiding). As I entered the kitchen, he was wiping down a huge cleaver I didn't even know we owned. On the counter were several bags of meat. No sign of anything else.
It may seem savage, but the sheer transcendant deliciousness that this meal will bring, the meat with a texture like polished satin, the aroma that takes one to a form of being that has no Earthly counterpart, the taste so unfathomably fantastic that each bite prompts full-body sobbing, so inundated are you with the knowledge that this most sumptuous of banquets must at some point end, is so worth it.
It's my favorite damn day of the year. Hell yeah.
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