Unstoppable it is. The need for fried chicken. And so, like a lemming falling off the cliff The Monster always gives in. In this case, it’s off to Torrance and Flossie’s.
In a nondescript mini-mall in a nondescript part of town comes some very fine soul food cooking. You’ll wait in line, salivating at the sight off all that wonderfulness behind the glass. You’ll nearly keel over looking at the huge list of desserts. Your parched mouth will scream for some sweet tea.