Northeast San Antonio. Kind of in a corner and hard to find but your pursuit will be rewarded. With avocadoey swiss cheese on a delicious homemade roll goodness.
It was another "groupon" date. Better than the last groupon date, thanks for asking. And not just because of the grilled chicken sandwich. But also mostly because Biff Buzby's Burgers has steak-cut sweet potato fries!
Steak-cut.
They were glorious. I mean, the only way my sweet potato fry life could get better now would be if Chick-Fil-A started selling a sweet potato version of their waffle fries. (Chick-Fil-A??) Holy starches I'd be in heaven.
Plus, this Buzby's place is all aviation-themed so you're eating underneath a ceiling spread of airplanes, or, should you feel so inclined, in "the cockpit". If the food isn't a draw (but really, it's practically an ar-teest), then that is.
After filling our caloric tanks (and then some...) the Greggins and I walked it off on a not-quite-but-almost-last-minute Christmas shopping adventure in the Forum. Where I got so excited about and was hook, line, and sinker ready to buy a gloriously fake 7-ft tall Christmas tree for 7 dollars, until handsome was all,
"Where are you going to store that?"
And my longing, puzzled stare at that PVC jewel was the end of that.
The shopping wasn't that productive but we did successfully fend off an aggressive salesman at the Men's Wearhouse trying to convince us that the Gregtailored needed a "cashmere suit"? Emphasis on the question mark. We were not there looking for suits...
Yes, our dates are all sorts of whimsical.
The night ended with Mickey D's hot chocolate splendor, which, we decided, really isn't that splendid, and a drive-around Windcrest to view their light displays.
I'm told this year didn't quite live up to the glory of years' past. But, in true Kyoo-Bear fashion, the food kept us sidetracked throughout most of the drive, not the lights...
"Ohmuhgoodness does this hot chocolate ever cool off?"
"I know, it's still like 200 degrees!"
An incident.
"Warn me before you step on the gas. *the look* I'm trying to drink this stuff!"
Observations.
"Does yours taste like chocolate? Mine doesn't taste like chocolate..."
Some sniffing.
"Mine smells like a macaroon!"
Hind sight.
"I should have asked for ice."
"Their iced hot chocolate doesn't seem so stupid now, does it?"
Beware the show-stealing powers of McD's hot chocolate (...drink). (because I don't think you can call it just hot chocolate). (it's like Tang to orange juice).
Also, maybe the night really ended with me taking a nap in my car to muster up the energy to drive home? It was, after all, almost 10 at that point. And it's not like I had a show or symphony to sleep thru earlier in the evening. (poor planning, I know).
The Casper and I made it home on a musical diet of lovely Tannenbaum branches and j-i-n-g-l-e bells.
Have a great day :-)
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