A shameful day
Sometimes you have a bad day. A shameful day. A day you’re actually regretting while you’re having it. But you do it anyway.
That has been today so far.
King Daddy and Noah came to CRC World Headquarters today to return some tables. I fully intended on taking them to the single greatest pizza joint in the world, Joey’s House of Pizza, but KD said, “What about fried chicken?”
Fried chicken? Fried chicken is totally unrelated to the world’s greatest pizza. But King Daddy doesn’t get out as much as he should so I relented. And in a town just crammed full of great fried chicken you will think I am insane when I tell you that the world’s greatest fried chicken is at Popeye’s. It’s true. The renowned Nashville chef Tandy Wilson, proprietor of City House, says when he craves fried chicken he heads to Popeye’s.
Shameful. Shame on me. I felt complete shame as I wolfed down fried chicken wings, red beans and rice, coleslaw and probably one of the top five biscuits ever produced at any restaurant, fast or slow.
That is it. That is all the good bad food I’m having today I told myself as I waddled to the car. I stopped at my beloved Publix to get the ingredients for a Caesar salad. And I got some ribeye steaks from my beloved butcher, Bruce Atkins, at the Butcher Block. He’s having a Labor Day meat sale. How could I resist? We’ll go Paleo tonight – salad and steak.
But not an hour ago, King Daddy ducked his head into my home office (my garage with a card table where I can smoke and drink wine when appropriate) and said, “Let’s go to Sonic for a little cup of vanilla ice cream.”
Does that look anything like a small cup of vanilla ice cream in any way? Yes, if you subtract the strawberry, pineapple and chocolate toppings, plus the whipped cream, nuts and banana and eliminate two scoops of ice cream you have one small cup of vanilla ice cream.
Shame, shame, shame.
And now, if I can’t stick to the Paleo salad and steak plan I will have to revert to what I intended to do all day before my wanton fried chicken and banana split orgy. I am conducting a Lay’s Potato Chip special chip tasting tonight. Every year Lay’s lets customers suggest special potato chip flavors and then sells them on a limited basis. This year, the flavors are Reuben, Truffle, Biscuits and Gravy, and Gyro.
As a control group, we’re comparing them to last year’s winner, Cheesy Garlic Bread. And as a palate cleanser I’m offering onion dip made with Lipton’s Onion Soup mix.
Shamed. Did I tell you I made some Lithuanian black bread croutons to go with the Caesar salad? Did I mention that I tossed them in a wee bit of butter before I popped them in the oven? And that I’ve convinced myself that if you only eat one every five minutes that it doesn’t count? I have issues. Is there therapy for this?