When poverty strikes

Normally Sunday afternoon is a time of impromptu decadence. It's an afternoon off, and the lazy Sunday ethos calls.

But money is beginning to mean something different, for a variety of reasons including but not limited to the prospect of $4-a-gallon gas, so Sunday lunch (or "dinner," if you're a Midwesterner) was Zaxby's.

Zaxby's is, in general, awesome. The fries are well seasoned, and the house dipping sauce is awesome. Moreover, you will find two things there you can't find many other places: Texas toast, dripping with butter, and cherry soda. For $6 a head, what more could you want?

There was one hitch, though -- our order was up so quickly it was clear our plates weren't cooked to order, which has been up to this point one of Zaxby's selling points. Usually the food is piping hot and fresh from the fryer. This time it was hot-ish. And thus it was good-ish. Not fabulous. But passable for a coupla hungry Sunday-afternoon lie-abouts.

Sunday dinner was homemade: Granny Lawson's Lunch Dish (from "Nigella Bites") and a box of Krusteaz lemon bars. And a bottle of bad wine. It was still a good meal.