Yesterday was important. My dad and stepmom came into the city and visited me. We went to the Art Institute and looked at the Vollard exhibition and then we bummed around n the general collection, and then we went to dinner at Topolobampo, which is Rick Bayless's Very Fanciest Restaurant in Chicago, and it was there that I chose my first non-fish victim.



I ate a goat empanada. It was strangely uneventful and extremely delicious. It was a goat barbacoa, which is a kind of preparation, not a specific body part. The meat was shredded and wrapped up inside of a delicious crust that was almost sweet. I dipped it in an accompanying sauce and I liked it.

I liked it very much.

If I were a good person though, I would have hunt the goat myself, said the appropriate prayers before shooting it with an arrow or something more skill-oriented as opposed to force-oriented, and then used every part of the animal maintaining all the while a state of exceptionally spiritual gratitude.



This was good, though.

I would eat goat again.