The smell of Bob Evans sausage reminds me of my father.
Sunday's were my Dad's day to make breakfast and it was always the same thing; eggs, toast, sliced tomatoes and Bob Evans Sausage patties. This was back before they came pre-packaged in patty form, so he made them thick and fried they up crisp on the outside. Bob Evans restaurants are everywhere in the midwest, but there's not a single one in California. So when I get back, eating at Bob Evans is a must.
Of course, I secretly hope the smell of Bob Evans sausage reminds our kids of these cross country trips. And, for those asking for photos of the kids, we don't put up photos of our kids on the internet. At least not without disguises. So, here they are at Bob Evans. :)
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