Taking Stock of Chinois

       Casting caution to the wind, as it cascaded thru the embraces of our taste buds, Shayne, Joyce and I came face to face with the delicate solitudes of the bistro fare placed one by one, in front of our visual facades.         

       As colors and geometry wielded pleasant aromas and our eyes began the feast before we had our chances to gain access to the  Asian flavors as they danced with glee, we relinquished control as we perused.

      Carefully we rode the tempest, wide eyed and mouths full, being gently stroked as our memories clung to the last of each momentary repose, one could only hope for another explosion of culinary fanfare.

        Venus and Mars were all right that night, as the roads slowly drizzled themselves into crescendos of exalted delights, as the night sky found it's way along the horizon of our satiated appetites.

          It becomes perfectly clear, when we travel along these sojourns, that it is not always the destination, but the trip that seems to be the guiding theme,  plated alas to pique our salutary expectations.

       It is after all, that desire to celebrate those arcane moments and roadsigns that draw our  adventurous souls, out in the open, to make those sacrifices necessary to fulfill our lust for such culinary affirmations.