Zach, I’m heading to the town of Greenvale to investigate the bizarre murder of Anna Graham. During my time trying to solve this case, I will be sure to keep you posted on all of the delicious dishes (and gallons of coffee) I encounter along the way.
Please don’t misunderstand, Zach- the gravity of this situation is not lost on me. But I think it is just as important to investigate the culinary delights this sleepy mountain town has to offer. It’s just like you always say Zach, “the secret to happiness is to give yourself a present every day, once a day.”
When I arrived at the station, I was presented with a homemade bagel sandwich by Deputy Emily Wyatt. At least, I think it was a bagel sandwich. That’s what she said it was. Sweet girl. I think she has a crush on me, which is a shame because she seems to have no idea how food works.
After washing away the simultaneously burnt and undercooked bagel abomination with my 20th cup of coffee, I was provided a day’s rations from Sheriff George Woodman. These rations came in the form of various canned goods, including that American classic, canned pickles. There’s nothing more nourishing and patriotic than pickles in a can.
As we headed off to the crime scene, I was surprised to hear the sheriff’s assistant Thomas MacLaine would not be joining us. Apparently, he cannot stand the sight of blood. Or dead bodies. Or trees and the outdoors. Strange guy, but he makes one hell of a biscuit. Zach, remind me to ask him for the recipe.
Once we finished our survey of the crime scene, Sheriff Woodman offered to take us out for lunch at the local A&G Diner. He ordered a plate of locally sourced high quality beef for the table to share, although the meat seemed a little rare for my tastes.
While the sheriff was wolfing down four steaks at once, I saw local eccentric Harry Stewart roll up to the counter and order THAT sandwich. You know what I’m talking about, Zach. That meal of self-inflicted punishment to atone for past sins: turkey piled high on a bed of jam and crushed cereal. That, pardon my language Zach, damned Sinner’s Sandwich.
When the hideously purple grub came out, I am ashamed to admit that I was drawn to it. Zach, the abyss of terrible flavor yawned before me, and in my weakness, I took a bite. In consuming, I was consumed.
Overall, not too bad. I’d give it an 8/10.
[What other great and terrible foods will Special Agent Francis York Morgan put in his face? Donate to see Deadly Premonition to find out!]