Really? I'm picky when it comes to spaghetti.
Tonight I had a roast beef sandwich. Though the beef was rather dry, its flavor was evened out by a small pallet of cheddar cheese. The two complimenting foods rested comfortably between two fluffy wheat buns. Together, they built a fabulous sandwich, which was sided off with a dozen delicious, juicy strawberries, along with six red cherry tomatoes. I refused the tomatoes, for I do not care for them, but the strawberries stayed. To soak my tongue, I had a tall glass of water, sparkling with frosty condensation. And that was it.
