The Cod is out of pocket in the 802, thanking a good man for a good life. Our lads are headed north, too, wrapping up the conference slate against the Wolfpack, with a minimum of fuss one, hopes. The marquee action is later, as Ole Miss attempts to slip a pickle in LSU's punchbowl, and the Trojans attempt to rain on the Ducks' parade. So good coastal action in a month that has an R in it (except for in New England). Get you some local oysters from the Gulf or the Pacific, some oyster knives, some lemons, a bit of hot sauce, some mignonette, if you're nasty, and call it a party.
It's the game of the century, for the ages, etc, as LSU travels to Alabama. The ESPN hall of mirrors has been in full effect -- hype the game, then cover the amount of hype as news. But it's an unusually easy gameday menu. For the main, honor noted herbivore and LSU coach Les Miles with a gumbo z'herbes. For dessert? Honor the man on the other sideline with a Saban family favorite dessert. You'll need some under-ripe persimmons (not the non-astringent kind), some stout nylon webbing, and buckles. Thread the webbing through the persimmon, and secure to your guests' mouths. Use the photo at right as a guide.
This week, the lads head down 85 to Atlanta. The city too busy to hate has not had a lot of love for Clemson, with recent debacles too numerous to mention. But! The Cod has been following the cue of mental health professionals by discouraging use of the words "always" and "never," and Vegas is smiling on the Tigers. Chez Cod, the main will be a reboot of the Rick-Fil-A. And, to enjoy the game in hi-def glory at Jimmy Howard's place, sriracha crackers. Paw-shaped sriracha crackers. Details tk.
The local eleven has headed up north -- sort of -- for a tilt with the Terps. Certainly terrapin soup would be a good call. Alternatively, crab cakes, the which the Lee Bros have a good receipt. (You have the Lee Bros Southern Cookbook.) Crab cakes are a good at home rather than restaurant move, b/c you don't have to worry about ingredient costs, and can put in a reasonable amout of crab. Failing that, you can simulate the game day atmosphere at Byrd Stadium by covering everything around you w/ Old Bay, and have someone yell cusses at you.
But! For the national marquee game, a different course of action. Oregon has that crazy offense, but the Sun Devils have Vontaze Burfict, the meanest man in America, (and therefore presumptive GOP presidential nominee). Oregon are the Ducks. And we all know how delicious it can be when someone is mean to a duck. West coast means a late kick, but get you some foie gras, something Alsatian with good acidity* and enjoy.
There has been talk on the Twitters as to if the reproductive organs of the new NY Times lead restaurant critic should be on the inside or the outside of their body. That, and the knowledge that drinking the wrong lite beer can make you a lady, has the Cod more conscious than usual that gender is a performance, etc. etc. That said, I won't say these are "man cave musts," but rather, if you are a person who likes to watch the sports, you need these. Both.
Left, Via EDSBS, right, via Aramark. A stopped clock is right once a day, right? But a stopped clock won't give you the freshman fifrteenabetus. Heyoo!
The folks at Garden and Gun are doing something like what our hasty, ill-considered gameday menus would be, if a responsible adult person were in charge. They're spotlighting a different game each week, focusing on the party and the after-party, rather than the x's and the o's. This week, it's where Los Gallos del Don Esteban roll into Athens.* Surprisingly, none other than Hugh Acheson, chef, Top Chef Masters contestant, and noted America-hater, has agreed to share a tailgating cocktail idea. Sounds pretty good -- fresh ginger syrup, Bourbon, and a peach? Has Acheson's heart finally softened to the spectacle of these lads getting some exercise and fresh air between classes? Has he, as a Canadian, finally found a way to enjoy this wholesome fun?
Or. Is this concoction part of some diabolical plan? Will this beverage weaken our wills, and allow Acheson to realize his sick, twisted dream where our lads are allowed only three downs, and play on a field that stretches one hundred and ten yards? Is this part of the same diabolical scheme where sick people can see a doctor, even if they are poor? The only way to find out is to mix a pitcher and see what happens.
The folks at G&G are tactfully non-partisan, suggesting their research indicates Gamecock fans read G&G. I find that implausible, but the Cod faces no such restrictions, and will be pulling for the Dawgs Saturday afternoon. If I had my dream job of "Aging hipster-manque mostly secular chaplain motivator guy," this is the jam I would be playing to get the guys hyped up for the game. Play us off, Pavement:
With the local eleven challenging dietary taboos (Terrierprofiteroles, WTF), we'll stick with the game our Bristol overlords want us to watch -- Notre Dame at Michigan. A tilt between two storied programs fallen on less relevant days, the whole thing has a sort of Havishamy Rust Belt savor. The big news here is that they are playing the game at night (!), so expect shushing from the UM undegrads who are poindexters, b/c Michigan is a serious university, lacking "Ess Eee Cee Speed" or "co-eds" in the upper quintile of "hotness" etc etc. (Go read any SEC message board in the next 24 if you need confirmation.)
The admittedly quixotic goal of HICGDM is to come up with a dish that simulates the feeling at the game. Thus something filling, but kind of dreary, but with one really compelling ingredient. Thus, corned beef and cabbage.* The cabbage and potatoes represent ND and Michigan (not respectively, perhaps), and a seventy-dollar corned beef brisket from Zingerman's represents Denard Robinson.
True to form, Oregon showed up in yet another uni, graphite w/ lime green numerals, looking like nothing less than fancy Prada tennis balls. However, the expected outbreak of the unpredictable -- Calvinball in the Jerrydome, anyone? Arrived in the form of an old fashioued beatdown by LSU, who showed up in their regular white unis, and administered a beatdown. In retrospect, in place of the vaguely surreal menu I suggested, canard au sang would have been a better choice: