On one fateful evening, I attempted to combine Chudleigh's too-sweet Apple Cider with the last bottle of flavoured soju in my inventory. Several encounters later, I learned that soju wasn't my cup of tea. But since I still had a few bottles on hand, it was only reasonable to deplete them in the least painful way possible.
"It feels like something wants to come up." I reported to a soju-acquainted friend.
"Yeah that sounds like soju." He replied knowingly.
Well, soju was banned from that point. I'll happily be returning to my beer roots.
My body expressed reluctance to venture past warm broths, but I managed to digest the seasonal offering of Pumpkin Spice before rolling up the rim. It was surprisingly delicious. The other flavours of Icing Sugar, Cinnamon Sugar, and Chocolate had been reserved for the next day, though were ultimately disposed as staleness prevailed.
Unveiling the Provolone Hawaiian, we were admittedly disappointed at the comparatively scanty toppings versus the Deluxe. Pineapples were barely observed on its surface. The cheese, appearing (and tasting) more cheddar-like than mozzarella, was present throughout; the same could be said in regards to the ham and bacon, which were savoury and crisp to touch. It was merely a shame that pineapple chunks had been so deficient, for the sweet, acidic notes would have been stellar at offsetting the otherwise severely savoury profile.
The Rigatoni was, hands down, the worst item of the spread. While promising in visuals, it was repulsive in taste. The noodles were stiff and starchy, the sauce emitting a synthetic sourness (yes, sour, not tart), and the entirety of the sampled spoonful clumped together.