i'm starting to totally get into football, kids. it's such an intense sport! especially when you have a clear underdog/dramatic athletic success story like the saints going up against captain all american petyon manning (i absolutely HATE that name. it's like a made-up gossip girl name.) not only that, but the saints also have scott fujita on their team and he just might be the omega man.
berkeley educated with a poli-sci degree and a masters of education. vocal advocated for same-sex marriage, pro choice, and proud of his adopted japanese-american heritage. all in a totally alpha, thick-necked, fairly dreamy package. it's like the best of ALL worlds!
so we had jalepeno popper and nachos and because the dotytron can't tell the difference between a drumstick and a wing drumette, a mix of of wings and drumsticks, deep fried and lolling in a bath of equal parts butter and frank's red hot sauce. it was pretty effin' tasty, if i do say so myself. a finger-lickin' meal worthy of the lickin' the colts got at the hands of the saints. i missed the on-side kick but the security guards at work today explained it to me...dramas! we also ducked out on the who at the halftime show. carrie underwood looked pure, nascar, big-haired country-fried in her white bedazzled outfit. it aged her. she also got mad pitchy near the end of her overdrawn rendition of the "star spangled banner" but it still beats taylor swift at the grammys! i don't understand why people want to over-sing "the star spangled banner" - it's such a beautiful, rousing national anthem that's got so many peaks and valleys that it doesn't need much embellishment. unlike our national anthem, which is a sturdy, dull, mumbling little thing...the reliable, stoic, wallflower child in the class of national anthems that features the blustering bombast of "le marseillaise" and the pinched, rigid, imperialism of "god save the queen."
for sunday breakkie we had jimmy dean's maple sausage with over-easy eggs and rye toast.
for a super bowl dessert i made us fudgy chocolate brownies with ice cream and leftover bourbon toffee sauce. i love a good, fudgy brownie. i think a good portion of my baking career has been spent chasing a homemade replica of the brownie sundaes that used to be served in the dining room of a roadside howard johnson's on the long family drives to NYC from toronto, in the time before roadside food was annexed in the name of the unholy union of tim horton's pedestrian chili-in-a-bread-bowl and wendy's. there used to be some variance to road food or at the very least, there was someone manning the stoves in a kitchen behind the dining room façade. there was a kitchen! where there was turkey roasting for hot turkey sandwiches - real turkeys even if the accompanying side of vegetables was standard-issue frozen peas and carrots propping up a rapidly dissolving pat of butter (but that's a textbook hot turkey sandwich preparation - real turkey, white bread, fake gravy, fake veggies). le sigh.
where was i? i made valentine's treats for my colleagues. these coconut almond brownie bars. a thin, fudgy, brownie base topped with a lime-accented coconut topping. trimmed and cut into bars and then topped with a salted, roasted almond and coated in glaze. i was NOT happy with the glaze. i was expecting a hard, thick glaze that would coat the bars and turn them into a homemade bounty or almond joy or like a chocolate-coated petit four. the amount of cream and corn syrup in the glaze should have twigged me that it wouldn't work out as i had envisioned, or as the VERY MISLEADING MAGAZINE IMAGE depicted:
next time, i'm just going to use a more straight-forward ganache or a tempered chocolate covering. the problem with the glaze in the recipe is that it's also extremely tacky and sticky - making for a messy eating experience. the coconut and brownie are tasty as all f**k so it's worth revisiting - it also makes a pant-load with a modicum of effort, although glazing individual petit fours approaches the upper limit of my sweets expenditure scale.
okay, that's enough outta me...i'm going to try to go have sexy dreams about scott fujita now.