Quote:
Originally Posted by Randy G Roberts
What, no frosted mug for the Guiness  I fixed some fresh tenderloin the other evening. Breaded with KY Colonel, fried with onions then drizzled with yellow mustard and Hellmans that were allowed to steam while the biscuits were rising. Been having left over loin with my breakfast this week.
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My tenderloin was gone the evening I killed it, along with gthe heart.
Ya know, when the hunters from neighboring camps and farms learn of a kill they seem to gather for the celebratory meal of tenderloin, heart, liver, onions, taters and free flowing amber fluids. It's so nice to be accepted by the locals... even if they do refer to me as "the flatlander".
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