Holy Mackerel

Let me just start out by saying I love my husband very much. There, got that out of the way. Now on to the important stuff: Nacho Figueras. No, it's not an appetizer. Wait a minute! Yes, it is! Here, let me show you. OH MY GOD. Oh.My.God. Save me from myself. Excuse me while I pull my tongue back into my mouth and wipe the drool off my chest. Order me a large plateful of that, please. I saw this guy on Oprah the other day, and I have to say he has got to be one of the most handsome men alive in this century. Nay, this millenium. Just look at him, will you? I know even straight men will probably have a hard time not getting a bonk on when they take a look at this fine specimen of mankind. Not only is he amazingly handsome, but Nacho is also a polo player. That's right. I said, a polo player, as in, he rides a horse and deftly hits balls with a mallet, all the while looking stunning as the sweat drips off his forehead, his hair curls "just so" around his ears, and ......

Mr. Handsome and I went out for dinner Thursday night. Alone. Without children. Just the two of us. No one else. Grandma decided to steal the kids and take them to see the movie Up and then for a bite to eat. And because I, in my perpetual peri-menopausal state of flux, began cramping and menstruating again for the second time in a one-and-a-half-week period (ha! period ! get it?), there wasn't going to be any hokey pokey going on around here between Mr. Handsome and I. So, what's the next best thing, you ask? Food, of course! So, off we went to Capone's, this wonderful little Italian restaurant we've been to many times. The inside is dark, the walls covered with photos of Mafia figures. Of course, I had to be led to our table by my arm, my eyes unable to focus and adjust to darkness very quickly. I ended up having the chicken amaretto, which I love, especially since it comes with this amazing potato that is shaped like a thick finger and cooked in some kind of coatin...