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He was an enthusiast, and Salvant liked him. He wore a red bandanna and three gold chains around his neck. He said, Thisll be good stuff, man! Good stuff, I swear on my mother. Salvant didnt have much faith in Quetglas, who was much given to Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes hyperbole and futile swearing about how home protein drink recipes

had driven his family from Cuba. After a twenty-minute ride, during which Quetglas gave Salvant a monologue about how it was that Cuban women had the biggest butts on the planet, the bus pulled to a stop at yet Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes another town, and they got out in the hot sun. They walked bread machine french bread recipes

a cobbled street that was deserted. The shops were closed. The people were inside taking a siesta. Salvant heard sparrows flutter and twitter, nothing else. I think we go this way, Quetglas said. He Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes didnt seem sure. Are you certain? Salvant felt a twinge of anxiety. Quetglas was lighthearted, unpredictable. Were all Cubans simple chicken recipes

crazy, Salvant wondered out loud-the women with unrivaled butts, the men merry gigolos tike Quetglas. Im pretty sure, Quetglas said. You should see my sisters polo, man. Que Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes bonita fayo! Its sweet. It really is. Its a Cuban butt, yes, but not giant, man. Just right Tnm. Quetglas held an imaginary photo potluck crockpot recipes

both hands. It made no difference that he was talking about his sisters demere; he could just as well have been Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes describing the fender of a new Ford. They walked in the heat The streets all looked the same and there was nobody to be found anywhere. A guys hermana is something special, cancun restaurant recipes

know, Lucien. Im a Catholic and we Catholics worry about our sisters and stuff. Probably Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes the priests do it to us, all the time talking about the Virgin. You dont know where the hell you are, do you, Frank? Salvant was hot, and mopped the sweat on his forehead with the back bourbon chicken recipes

his arm. He didnt want to have to sit Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes in the heat until everybody was finished sleeping. No problem, Quetglas said. We walk up here a ways and theres a square. All these streets eventually end up at the same square. The guy takes a little nap, then spends his time in bourbon chicken recipes

bar there. When Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes they open up again, hell be there. How else is he going to find buyers? Suddenly an old Austin mini with scarred silver paint pulled alongside. Its him, our man, Quetglas said. Que suerte! Salvant followed Quetglas into the back seat and they settled in, knees up to Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes their chests, but then home protein drink recipes

Austin wouldnt start. Unfolding awkwardly, they got out to help push, then leaped in again. The driver and his friend took them through a series of cobbled streets. After ten or twelve blocks, the mini stopped in yet another narrow street, and Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes they were led into a small room. Beans were cooking home protein drink recipes

the kitchen. There was a card table in the middle of the room and the driver asked them to take a seat. Quetglas sat at the head of the table, under a huge crucifix. A woman Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes in her eighties, dressed in widows black, helped Salvant and Quetglas with their chairs. The driver cold summer appetizer recipes

four huge black eggs onto the table. They must have weighed a kilo each. They had a swirled, marbled appearance. It took Salvant a moment to realize they were Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes incredible balls of hashish wrapped in cellophane. He had never seen anything like it. The driver also sat two half-eggs of hash bourbon chicken recipes

the table. Quetglas was excited. They look like dinosaur eggs, dont they, Lou? Great big eggs. The widow picked up half an egg and sniffed Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes it. Bueno, bueno, she said. Quetglas said, A smugglerd have to have a pretty big asshole to handle one of those. Can you imagine that, Lucien? Salvant didnt care if bread machine french bread recipes

spent a few extra pesetas, but Quetglas was intent on saving every last peseta possible. Quetglas was Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes from Miami and knew how this was done. He was in charge. Dont mention money, man. Let me do the talking, he said. Salvant was pleased to do that, since the only things he could crockpot meatball recipes

in Spanish were order food and ask directions. Go for it, Restaurant Chicken Marsala Recipes Frank. I know how these things are done. W.

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