
It's not easy being a Texan outside of Texas. My dad in particular needs an injection of chips and salsa once every 48 hours or else he will start to experience violent withdrawal symptoms. By the middle of the trip he was in
big trouble. He would gaze blankly into the distance and growl the words
pizza and
prosciutto as if they were nasty curse words. We did the only logical thing and sought out Hard Rock Rome--an oasis in a pasta wasteland. The 'salsa' tasted suspiciously like tomato sauce with jalapenos and onions, but somehow it saved him. Thank you Hard Rock.
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