Dahlia and her co-workers settled into the unassuming restaurant, the scent of fried delights wafting through the air. The decor was humble, but the enthusiasm of her colleagues was infectious.
"You must be new here, but trust us, this place serves the best crispy chicken and drinks in town," one of her coworkers said, the others nodding in agreement.
Dahlia's curiosity was piqued. "Now that you mention it, I can't wait to taste this crispy chicken," she said, her stomach growling in anticipation.
The waiter arrived promptly, bearing five steaming bowls of golden-brown crispy chicken and a bottle of chilled beer for each of them. The aroma of crispy goodness filled the air, making Dahlia's mouth water.
"Looks good," she said, eyeing crispy chicken, her gaze lingering on the juicy meat and crispy skin. ?client_