Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Didn't Mary Lose Some Too?

Didn't Mary Lose Some Too?
an original and highly copyrighted poem by Lu

I went to bed but couldn't sleep, my head was feeling stuffy.

I thought I'd try the age-old trick of counting something fluffy.

I'd tried the whining, tossing route, it didn't go too well

The sheep-thing might not work, I thought - It's kind of hard to tell.

First I looked in my closet, then underneath the bed,

for a minute I feared, all the sheep! they were dead!

Perhaps they were lost,

had been butchered or sold.

Or were these delusions the start of a cold?

I think I saw rabbits and mice, maybe beavers

A zebra, 3 elephants, tigers, anteaters.

Nothing too fluffy or cute, nothing countable.

Nothing at all that would make this surmountable.

I tried counting dolphins and even some swine

It's not all that simple to keep them in  line...

They're looking for ways to get out of your head

So really it's easier - just don't go to bed.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Updates and Rumors and Status(es?)

1. Contrary to rumor, The Weege is not actually comatose.

He's just tired, poor thing. He really outdid himself at the farm this weekend with the cow-chasing, the lake-swimming, the hog-hunting, and the nasty stuff-rolling. He collapsed in The Chief's lap Saturday night and after about three hours I waved some apple (his other favorite fruit) in front of his nose to see if he was still alive.  I'm gonna tell you what, he was able to swallow the apple without ever opening his eyes.

That's tired, y'all.

Bless his little farm dog heart.

2. I had the most lovely time on Saturday.

These are some of my very favorite people in the whole wide world. We're high school classmates and each and every one of them is just precious to me. We got together at Donna's (far left) Peach Creek Vineyards just outside of College Station to laugh and eat and make the final plans for our upcoming trip to NYC.

I could not be more excited.


The potential for fun and mayhem on the trip is dangerously high.

Dangerously. High.

It was a great day and Donna and her husband Ken were such gracious hosts. I encourage you to give them a call if you are in the area and go by to have a tasting.

Peach Creek Vineyards

Tell them I said hi!!!!

Oh and while you're there, look for Weegie's grapevine! It's called the "Sir Weegie"!!

3. Lastly, I made these.

I shouldn't have but I did.

There's no point in pretending that I am walking in any sort of self-discipline victory or anything.

I am what I am, and I happen to be an Orange-Cinnamon Roll maker. And I don't want to be the one to say it but they're darn good.

Darn good.

Now I need to be an excuse-maker-upper so I can explain to The Chief how these decadent treats got in my kitchen.

I would entertain your suggestions...


Friday, February 24, 2012

Poet Friday

Just a little something from my heart.

The Sleep Poem
by lu

No sleep for Lu,

I'm afraid it's true

Perhaps it was the TAB.

I tossed and turned

Whined and yearned

My night, It was not fab.

Tonight I hope

I'm not a dope

to drink so late at night.

If I do

I guarantee you

My mind, it won't be right.

If you'd like I can autograph a personal copy for you.

Thank you,


Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Mario Would Be Ashamed

Hi everyone. Hope you are all well.

Me? I'm presently suffering from a terrible bout of severe muscle fatigue as a result of attending my very first Pilates class this morning. I'm sure I'll have a lot more to say about the Pilates thing in the next few days, but what I have to say about it right now is not particularly uplifting (don't get me wrong, the class was great and the instructor was, you know, just a doll), as the pain and soreness kind of make it difficult to think about the positives.
(Besides also making it nearly impossible to lift my foot from the accelerator to the brake without some assistance from one or both of my arms.)

So anyway, I have found my core and made it sore.
(I've already copyrighted that line and it's part of the chorus of my next song - so hands off.

The class did work to take my mind off of the terrible reality that we might have to move y'all.

I just hate it, but it might be the only solution.

Listen to my story.

I'm sure it must have been disappointing for The Chief. He had spent most of the afternoon in the garage trying out the spiffy Framing Nailer that I romantically gave him for Valentine's Day.

What? You didn't give a power tool to your sweetheart?

I know The Chief, and I know what his kind  like. They like power tools.  I aim to please. Get it? Aim. Cupid?  I'm very Valentine-y.

I should have remembered to get him some nails too, but that's another story about another ill-fated trip to the Home Depot.

And look. I have so wandered off the Subject Trail. I apologize.

Anyway The Chief came in the house last night after nailing things and said "What on earth is that smell?" Followed by "is everyone OK?" Which is not contextually a very glowing endorsement of what I was cooking for dinner.

Here's what happened y'all. I made pizza.

Now I love to make pizza from scratch. Earlier in the day I had mixed up the dough for my favorite crust and was careful to give it adequate time to rise. It was a lovely, light and pliable dough and I stopped just short of slapping on a name tag that said Luigi and tossing the perfect dough round in the air as I formed the base for the pizza.

(Of course, The Chief always strongly discourages me from these acts of Italian prowess as he is such a fan of a perfectly smooth and professional looking sheetrock/texture on the ceilings and walls. As a matter of fact I believe he has on file somewhere a Cease and Desist Order that he made me sign several years ago. Like I've said before he likes to stay organized and also legal when it comes to his documentation of our little "agreements".)

So, I just carefully flattened out  the dough to form the crust and then added the toppings which of course, were crowned with fresh mozzarella.
I had carefully preheated Gladys. (That does sound odd, now doesn't it)

It really makes all the sense in the world.

Gladys is the smaller oven on the left of my beloved oven and her best friend Esme is the larger oven on the right.

Anyway Gladys was all ready and I put the pizza in and in about 3 minutes there was the most terrible-awful smell and I realized that I had been a little too generous with all the toppings and the cheese and the sauce and the tomatoes and the basil and OH MY just everything was bubbling up and over the sides of the pizza pan and then pouring down onto the bottom of the oven and burning into the most horrible gunkiness. And in my distress I decided that if I just let it go, surely it will "burn off" and then everything will be OK.

But it wasn't. And it got worse and it was awful and ruined and nasty and then I turned the broiler element on to try to brown the top SO I COULD JUST PLEASE SWEET MERCY GET IT OUT OF THE OVEN and subsequently the top was burned black and the bottom was mushy and soft.

Mushy and soft.

Where I come from we call this a "mess".

And y'all.

I'm pretty sure I killed Gladys.

And the SMELL.

Burnt cheese. Everywhere.

I love my house. I do. But I'm not sure it will ever be the same. I kept dreaming last night that I worked for the city repairing potholes made by burrowing skunks. Gah.

Burning and killing and moving and Bad Pizza.

I think you'd all agree that clearly, this is just the type of thing that The Chief is fundamentally opposed to.

He has drafted a new and revised Incident Report Form.

I'll keep you posted.


Friday, February 17, 2012

The Secret Order of the Pomegranate

Earlier this week I had to run up to the grocery store for some yeast. Needless to say I had already been to the store the four days in a row before, but  of course, all those other times I just got stuff that I didn't need at all and never thought to pick up some of the things I might actually require.

Because randomness is my specialty.
(Thank heavens, though, I'm now well-stocked with organic stewed tomatoes and also creme fraiche.)

You just never know.

But it's hard to make a gabillion King Cakes without any yeast.  Just try it.

Anyhoo, I got up and threw on some clothes (collective sigh of relief) and flew up to the HEB. On the way to the yeast I was just BESIDE MYSELF to find these

Archipelago Pomegranate Citrus...

My very favorite year-round candle. (I'm still enamored of the Slatkin Original Holiday scent for Christmas).

I've had several of these over the last year and it was a dark moment when I discovered they weren't keeping this scent in stock the last few times I looked. I'm using the empty box of my last one for a pencil holder because it retains the lingering scent. Occasionally I pick it up and sniff.

So I grabbed up more than one. Just like I grabbed up more than one of my favorite soft lounging T-shirts the other day because, well, there might be a shortage or nuclear incident or something and I would at least be comfy (and not itchy) and my house would smell good.

So I got the candles and a cubic ton of yeast and a package of natural, raw, whole flaxseed. Like I said the whole nuclear possibility.

The cashier may have given me a look at the odd combination of items (maybe some sort of sacred leavening ceremony?) but I'm not sure. I was inhaling one of my candles.

So that's my candle recommendation. Don't say I never gave you anything.

Oh. And if you happen to shop at my HEB don't go all cuckoo and buy them all. I'll be needing to stock up again pretty soon.


PS   I'm curious. Do you have you own very, very favorite candle? We all want to know.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

A Good Imagination is Totally Underrated

I woke up this morning and was shocked to find myself at home.

Well, you know what I mean. Like I was shocked to discover I wasn't at the Rusty Parrot Lodge in Jackson Hole.

Like I had been just a few minutes before in my dream.

A gentle snow wasn't falling outside my window and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and just-baked muffins wasn't wafting through the clear air. A fluffy white heated robe did not await me in the bathroom and I was pretty sure that no one beside myself was going to unobtrusively arrive to make the bed.

The antique sideboard wasn't laden with an assortment of fruits and berries, crunchy granola, fresh-squeezed juices, and creamy yogurt. There were no made-to-order daily breakfast specials written on the blackboard menu. I wasn't forced to struggle with a decision between ordering a thinly sliced flatiron steak with crisp-tender roasted fingerling potatoes with a sun-dried tomato-leek butter or waffles studded with crunchy pecans and a decadent bananas flambe'.

No, my choices were somewhat more limited and frankly much less exciting.

But, instead of feeling sorry for myself I made Cinnamon Beignets.

And pretended.

You can too. They're super easy and really tasty.

Rusty Parrot Cinnamon Beignets

1/2 c. sugar
1 egg
1/2 c. buttermilk
2 T. butter, melted
2 c. flour
2 t. baking powder
oil for frying

cinnamon and extra sugar

Beat the sugar and the egg until light, fluffy, and pale yellow.  Add the buttermilk and butter to the mixture. Combine the flour and baking powder in a small bowl then add to the mixture; stir until just combined but do not overmix. Let rest for 20 minutes in the fridge. On a floured surface roll out the dough to 1/4 inch thickness and cut out with small rounds (any shape will do). Heat the oil to about 375 degrees and fry the beignets in small batches for about one minute per side until golden brown.  Mix about 1/2 c. sugar and 1 tsp. cinnamon in a small paper bag. Place the warm beignets in the bag and shake to coat.
Serve warm with chocolate sauce and fruit!

(I made a chocolate sauce with heavy cream and dark chocolate and a little Mexican Barra chocolate)

Now pretend you're enjoying them in front of a crackling fire while your bed is being unobtrusively made.

But don't dally. We're going on a sleigh ride through the National Elk refuge in just a few minutes.

Bundle up!


Monday, February 13, 2012

Aha! One and Two

This little guy (or gal) along with one of his buddies (or buddettes) has been visiting my feeder for about the past month or so. I guess they decided just to stick around instead of making the trek to their more traditional winter hang-out.  After the horribly hot summer we had they may have logically deduced it would never get very cold around here again anyway... He didn't seem the least bit afraid when I got extremely close to take his picture, and even fluffed his feathers a bit to look his best in the shot.

He's a poser.

Now to those two eye-opening things...

1. Chances are if you are eating a hamburger and you find yourself looking closely at the meat to determine if it has actually been cooked, and if in fact you see that it seems they have most likely skipped the crucial step of APPLYING EVEN THE TINIEST BIT OF HEAT to the hamburger patty, and yet because you are nearly famished and you lamely choose to close your eyes and eat it anyway, then mayhaps it is your own darn fault when you also find yourself deathly ill exactly seven hours later.

So ill that you would give anything, ANY.THING. to go back and make a different choice.


2. I could very likely make a fine living as a wild hog "flusher".

Just ask The Chief.

Friday evening I accompanied The Chief to search out some hogs who have been doing an unbelievable amount of damage all over the farm.  My intention was to stay in the truck as much as possible and at the same time avoid any hogs whatsoever as much as possible.  My plan worked out pretty well if I do say so myself. I even got to watch a group of about 12 hogs as they deftly avoided The Chief's advances into the underbrush. He would duck into the woods and in a scene reminiscent of a classic cartoon chase they would pop out of the woods a hundred feet or so down the road.

I was even able to file my nails while I enjoyed the show.

This went on for a while until the big guy got really irritated and he climbed back in the truck and announced "When we do this tomorrow, Lu, I'm gonna have you go in and flush the pigs out into the opening so I can get a good shot at them".

Well. Hmm.

"But Chief", I said. "I thought the way we did it tonight worked out really well for everyone. I got to rest in the truck and file my nails and you and the hogs all got some heart-healthy exercise."

"I believe they call that a win-win."

"Anyways Chief, I don't really want to go down into those bushes and walk along the little hog paths and step over all the little piles of well, hog stuff and all, and again Anyways Chief  what am I supposed to do if they run toward me instead of away from me, huh?"

"Did you think about that Chief? Cause I'm thinkin' you didn't think about that."

He pauses and spends a good second or two thinking about this.

"Well  Lu, if I were you honestly I believe I would get out of their way."

"They can be pretty dangerous."

And then, like always, he flatters me and appeals to my strong sense of logic.

Drat my achilles heel.

"You're smart, Lu. You'll figure out what to do. You could run or you could even climb a tree. But don't try to fight them off, that probably wouldn't be your best plan."

So Saturday evening I tried my hand at hog flushing.

I tunneled though yaupons and mesquite bushes with devilish thorns as long as your hand. I slogged through mud and avoided the "other stuff" with prowess. I listened for grunts and tried to keep my own moans as quiet as possible. I got so cold I couldn't feel my lips.

I darted and zig-zagged and backtracked and looped.
I'm pretty sure it was a thing of beauty.

All for naught.
The hogs, they were not home.

Color me sixteen ways of disappointed.

My only injury was a deep stab wound to the head from one of those nasty dagger-like mesquite thorns. I  luckily didn't damage even one of my freshly manicured nails.

And he didn't say it of course, but I'm pretty sure The Chief was impressed.

Aha. Two.


Friday, February 10, 2012

Put on your Toque Blanches, It's Mardi Gras!

Way back in the mid 80's when we moved to South Louisiana I experienced my first official Mardi Gras season. I had heard of Mardi Gras before moving there, of course, but hearing of it and experiencing it are two completely different things.

Kind of like marriage.

Yo Chief!

The whole move was a little, well, disconcerting for me as I had always lived in Texas and had been at least within a couple of hours drive of most of my extended family. I guess the major problem was that Louisiana wasn't, uh, well, it wasn't Texas and it was gonna take some mighty fancy footwork on the part of the Bayou State to win this Texan's heart.

And it did y'all.

I can tell you all kinds of reasons why  that would include both of my sons being born there, the wonderful friends that we made, the physical beauty of the area, the music, the unique Cajun accent (which I miss to this day) and the "laissez les bon temps rouler" culture of the people.

But mostly it was the food. OH DON'T GET ME STARTED.

The food is like nothing you've enjoyed anywhere else on earth. The food is rich, deep and soulful. Steeped in tradition, many dishes have a history just as complex as their tastes. Love and heart and soul go into each and every gumbo, etouffee and po-boy served.

It's difficult for me to cook any kind of savory dish to this day  without starting with the Holy Trinity of chopped bell peppers, onion and celery.

And yes, Amen.

It's slow food at it's very finest.

Mardi Gras is traditionally celebrated as a "season of revelry and indulgence" before the Lenten period begins on Ash Wednesday. "Fat Tuesday" (officially the day before Ash Wednesday) is what many consider to be Mardi Gras day (if it were just a day) but in most areas that celebrate the season the activities begin on Epiphany (January 6) after the Twelfth Night, and last until Fat Tuesday.

So we're right smack dab in the midst of it. Ash Wednesday this year is on February 21 so I thought I needed to "learn you all some things" about how it's done.

With the exception, of course, of the somewhat raucous female body-baring activities surrounding the parades, or the whippings and masks and live chickens and such.

I thought we'd just stick with the food.

I know y'all are relieved.

The King Cake is a traditional treat served throughout the Mardi Gras season. There are numerous versions (depending upon geographic area) but most are yeast type cakes braided and formed into a ring. They may or may not contain a filling of some sort, but almost all are topped with a sweet icing and decorated with colored sugar in the very traditional purple, green and gold colors of the season.

The gaudier the better.

The cake is named for the biblical Three Kings and commemorates the visit of the Magi to the Christ child. Many versions of the cake contain a small plastic "Christ child" figurine or other bauble (such as a dried bean) and the person who gets the piece containing it are either given a designation of "King" or "Queen" of the day or in some areas the "winner" of the bauble is required to provide the next King Cake.

I just always used to hate it when someone would chomp down on that Christ child or Sweet Mercy Sake sometimes swallowed it.

I just stick with a bean.

I decided to explore making my own King Cake because, honestly, I've had some really bad ones over the years. Not any disappointing ones from true Acadian bakeries mind you, but many other bakeries, to meet demand, just kind of throw together something that looks gaudy enough but can be tough, flat, and just plain old bland.

This one, mais cher, is anything but blah...

1. In a large bowl, combine 1 1/2 c. flour, 1/4 c. sugar, 1 1/2 tsp. salt, and 2 packages yeast.

2. Heat 3/4 c. milk, 1/2 c. water and 1 1/2 sticks butter until very warm, about 120 to 130 degrees.

3. Add to dry ingredients and beat for 2 minutes at medium speed with an electric mixer.

4. Add eggs and 1/2 c. flour. Beat on high speed for 2 minutes. Stir in remaining flour (2 3/4 c.) to make a stiff batter.

5. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 2 hours. (Or if you forget about it, 4 hours like me...)

6. Remove dough from fridge and punch down.

7.  Move dough to a lightly floured surface and divide into 3 equal portions for one large King Cake, or into 6 portions for two smaller ones. Each small cake feeds about 10 -12!

8. Roll each portion out flat (if making one cake each portion will rool out to about 28x4 inches, and for two small cakes about12x4).
Melt one stick of butter in microwave.
Have 1 cup sugar ready (and about 1 T. cinnamon). I decided not to use cinnamon this time...

Brush each portion with melted butter, sprinkle evenly with sugar, and cinnamon (if you're using it)

9. Beginning at long end, roll each up tightly as for a jellyroll.

10. Pinch the seams to form long ropes. Braid, then form into an oval (or circle) Pinch the ends together to seal. Place on a greased baking sheet.

I brushed on the remaining butter, sprinkled on the rest of the sugar,cover and let rise for another hour (it was closer to 2 because I forgot to preheat the oven til the last minute...)

Bake at 375 for 25 to 30 minutes until lightly golden. Let cool on wire racks and then glaze with 2 cups powdered sugar mixed with 2-3 T. milk, 1/8 tsp vanilla, and a pinch of salt...

Then sprinkle with purple, green and gold sanding sugars.

I was SO very pleased with how they turned out!

I think you will be too! Try it!


Let me know how you like it!

Thursday, February 9, 2012

I Knew It Was Wrong Before I Did It

According to the kitchen rules of "making something tasty" if you are completely aware of the wrongness of what you are about to do that somehow makes it OK.

I believe it's Article 7, Amendment 34.

Or 35. I can never remember.

Anyway your honor, I rest my case. (And by the way, I owe myself about 40,000.00 in legal fees for that stellar defense.)

See. There's all kinds of ways to make money at home...

Let's move along.

It's no secret around here that I'm a less than perfect planner.

Or a non-planner so to speak.

That just sounds so harsh. I like less than perfect better. It hurts less.

So it won't be much of a surprise to hear that I kind of overbought baking ingredients right before Christmas. I had grand ideas people. And then I couldn't button any of my jeans and The Chief was using logical phrases that included words like ridiculous, and cholesterol and health and "LU, WE DON'T NEED TO BE EATING ALL THAT STUFF" so I shut down the bake shop before I exhausted my huge supply of ingredients.

Drat The Chief and his pesky logic.

But now I can button my pants, and The Chief is safely ensconced at work, and I'm without supervision of any kind. Logical or otherwise. So I decided to make a tasty treat to use up some pantry items.

It's Chocolate Almond Brickle Popcorn.

I saw a recipe recently for some popcorn drizzled with white chocolate and then sprinkled with some colorful sprinkles and thought how easy it looked, so I decided to whip up some popcorn and then top it with things I already had.

First, I tried to get things all ready since I knew when melting and mixing things time can be a factor.

I put out a baking sheet with a non-stick mat. Or you could just use wax or parchment paper.

Then I put some chocolate coating on to melt. I typically don't use this stuff, and next time I make this I'll probably just use regular milk chocolate, but it does melt to a nice, velvety texture.

See how smooth....

Then I toasted some sliced almonds. And for once I didn't burn them.

I knew you'd like this picture. Everybody loves to make fun of my sad (but beloved) bakeware...

I got out about 1/2 cup of toffee brickle.

I popped some popcorn. I used the old-fashioned kind instead of the microwave kind, because I'm old-school sometimes.

I made way too much...

You'll only need about 6-8 cups. I put some of the extra out for the birds, but before I realized my mistake, Weegie had already eaten every single piece and the birds got zilch.

Spread the popcorn out on the baking sheet and sprinkle with 1/2 c. toasted sliced almonds and 1/2 c. toffee brickle.

OH. And about1/2 tsp. of salt. Don't forget the salt.

Then drizzle on the chocolate.

Then mix it all up!!  If you value your manicure, don't use your bare hands like I did...

Let it cool and enjoy!!!!

And of course it's much more fun and totally healthy if you eat it out of a pretty glass.

We are very fancy around here.


Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Nothin's Gellin'

I'm having a little trouble today coming up with something to write about. I have lots of little snippets of  EXTREMELY IMPORTANT THINGS floating around in my mind, but instead of landing and congealing into some sort of logical (don't laugh) story or conversation, they continue to just, you know, float.

But I thought you might be interested in hearing what some of the snippets are saying...

1. Friends are so important.

2. I could not be more blessed to have The Chief as my husband and very best friend.

3. The Chief probably needs to confiscate my credit card.

4. In the last two days, Weegie has overdosed on blueberries three times.

5. Someone seriously needs to invent underpants that don't ride up. Some make the claim, but they lie.

6. Blue is my favorite color and that's never gonna change.

7. Thursday I'm making a King Cake from scratch. Then I'm probably going to eat it.

8. Yesterday the girl behind me in Zumba said she watched me to follow the steps. Bless her heart.

9. I think our dryer has finally eaten the very last of The Chief's black socks.

10. Last night I dreamed that I had really long beautiful hair. I was so shocked when I looked in the mirror this morning.

11. I need to remember not to eat Chinese food for lunch and then Mexican food for dinner. Ever again.

12. I want to be a guest star on NCIS or NCIS Los Angeles. Or Castle. Or A Person of Interest.

13. #12 is never gonna happen.

14. From now on I'm buying only organic carrots. (Well, when I buy carrots.)

15. I really like authentic people. Just regular, authentic people.

16. The lake at the farm is getting some water in it! I'll take pictures for y'all this weekend.

17. I am addicted to TAB.

Like I said. Things are kind of floating. I'll let you know when I settle on a topic.


PS  Sorry about #5. But I'm here to speak the hard truth.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

You'd Think I'd Learn

I've been guilty once or maybe eleventy times of sitting back and saying something like "Ahhh.. next week looks like it should be pretty free and easy. I think on Monday I'll do nothing and then on Tuesday I'll rest from all that exhaustive nothing-doing on Monday then Wednesday I'll think about what I'll do on Thursday and then Thursday and Friday I will really get down to the getting down to something."

Take my advice.

Don't fool yourself. The problems, conflicts and all the various and sundry cuckoo start beating down your door at the first "ahhh".

Let me be the first to say Oh Silly Me.

Exhibit A: This week.

Without wearing you plumb out, let's just say that things, they have not gone as planned.

No, they have not.

But instead of wallowing in my displeasure at the circumstances of my schedule, ( does that sound as strange to y'all as it does to me??) I'm leaping forward straight to panic. Quite a feat for me because I think it's fairly clear, I'm a natural wallower.

I don't have time to fool around with worry or fret or angst or any of those piddly little things when it's just so much more time effective to hop on over and grab hold of panic with all I've got. I think The Chief would be so proud that I'm thinking time management. Don't y'all?

We're having a Super Bowl Party here on Sunday. (And of course, as The Chief has already mentioned to me at least 49 times "Lu. you don't have to say we're having a Super Bowl Party on Sunday. When else would we have a Super Bowl Party? On Saturday? Monday Night? Typically Lu, people have Super Bowl Parties during the actual Super Bowl. That's just how it's done.)

Like I said he's hilarious.

So anyway, the wonderful, lovely, fun people that are coming are all bringing great food but I just feel like  I need to be sure that we don't miss something absolutely essential to every Super Bowl Party in the US of A.

Which, according to The Chief, will most all be taking place on Sunday evening.

Go figure.

Here's my question. If you were going to a Super Bowl Party on Sunday, or if you were just going to have your own personal Super Bowl viewing in the comfort and beauty of your own home, what food item would you absolutely, positively expect to be there?

Would you have to pack it up and head home if there wasn't hot wings?
Would you be in a stupor without chips and dip?
Would you be running up to the HEB or The WalMarts for sub sandwiches if there were none to be found?
Do you insist on brownies or some other must-have dessert?

I have a dire need to know.

And keep in mind, it's a rousing bunch of Baptists who'll be partying here so we'll wash it all down with some TAB, Diet Coke, and Dr. Pepper.

And of course, gallons of sweet tea.

The boldest of our lot may even risk a shot of Ginger Ale.

It should be wild.

As a precaution I have hired security.

I look forward to your suggestions,