Let me explain: there is some unnamed law/theory that states "any kind of cooking involving a pot or stew, if let to sit overnight in a suitable environment, will taste mouth-blasting awesome on the morning of the next day and a few days after". The leftovers of the pot-au-feu that I had yesterday night are no exception; by the time it reaches my plate, some of the essence from the ingredients sat in the soup must've already blended into it. My favorite way of eating this sacred dish is by soaking buttered pieces of toast in the soup; it's almost enough to make me believe in the existence of some merciful deity.
Rejuvenated, I pack up my bags and get ready to roll out to the battlefield. That homework seems like a piece of cake now; I bet I can finish it on the front lines.
Who's this unknown person, by the way?
