The still-warm farro bloomed open the flavor of the herbs, while the vinaigrette mellowed the toothsome grains. The corn popped sweetly under my teeth and the slivered almonds added a toasty crunch. Piled into a bowl and eaten with a fork, the salad was chewy and sweet, herbal and acidic. The fresh, bright flavors were a revelation. So good that I felt my alcohol-soaked veins wilt with gratitude. So good that I found myself nibbling surreptitiously at the serving bowl after I finished dinner. So good that I hid the leftovers from Ben so I could eat them for lunch today.
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