Anchor Struck

Last night I ate enough calories to fuel my body well into October.

Jude’s coming home from a business trip today, so I thought I’d

have a extraordinarily manly meal that she shouldn’t have to

witness.  She worries about me, don’t you know.

This had to be a special meal, one to honor my past and future.

Since I have no clue as to what’s ahead, I went back to my roots.

My greasy roots.  The traditional cusine of the Midwest and the

South exists only to be fried.  Hence, I started with bacon, found

the perfect counterpoint (mac & cheese), and brought it all to

full potential with Oreos.  Witness:

Of course, it’s all about presentation, and everything about this

meal — from the splashy plate design, to the droll use of broccoli

instead of parsley, to the playful stacking of the Oreos — coyly

says “eat me!”  Here’s some detail:

I wanted to keep the

meal elegantly simple.

This called for a single

candle and a lone flower

(the lone flower I could

find).  Selecting the wine

was a tad of a conundrum.

Do I highlight the grain-

fed goodness of the bacon

with a 2002 Peter Michael

Ma Belle-Fille chardonnay from Sonoma County, or respect the rich

tradition of the mac & cheese’s sodium phosphates with an ’06 Even-

stad Reserve Pinot Noir from Domaine Serene in the Willamette Valley

of Oregon?

In the piquant spirit of the food selection, I decided to be bold and

went with an ’11 Pepsi instead.  Perfect. It tied everything together

magnificiently.

One more thing: here’s how the meal would have looked to you

if you are approximately 45 inches tall and squint: