“Forward down the fiiiiield, a charging team that will not yiiiiiield; and when the blue and silver wave, stand and cheer the brave, RAH RAH RAH!!!!” . . . my vocal chords begged for mercy as I belted out every dumb word of the Detroit Lions’ fight song.
That’s right . . . we don’t have cheerleaders, we have a fight song! And as that game winning field goal tucked just inside the left goal post, burying the Vikings and bringing us to 3-0, that fight song had never been sung so sweetly.
It’s Sunday baby!!! And we’re back! Welcome to the fall season, the season of the gridiron, rustling leaves, and testosterone packed pumpkin chai lattes, hell yeah!
Now believe me when I say I feel your pain Eagles fans, I totally remember when my O-line couldn’t protect the quarterback either. But in giving credit where credit is due, the Lions have been the “Bad News Bears” of the last 50 years— though even those damn Bears made it to a championship. The most memorable thing the Lions ever did was go 0-16.
My living room was a patchwork of various NFL team supporters on Sunday. The Eagles fans were three deep and sulking on my couch, offset by a single smug Packers fan, the mysterious Browns fan, and myself. We may be divided by our teams, but today we put regional pride aside and came together over BBQ and beer. If football was the fun glue for the afternoon, then BBQ was the reason for being (and beer just makes you better . . . at everything), and today’s menu could visually induce a heart attack in even the most cholesterol impacted carnivore. The charcoal in the grill climbed toward a 300 degree smoulder. The grates begged for seasoned flesh. In the kitchen, slabs of chicken breast and pork sausage hit the bamboo board. I sharpened the teeth of my 12’’ Santoku and began to hack.
Now, the benefit of inviting such a deep crowd was the ability to employ folks in order to streamline the cooking and cleaning process. The downside to all this was the fact that you probably don’t know shit about your guests ability to cook, and neither do they. So here is a teeny bit of advice to aid in the culinary companion quest, do not pick the Packers fan.
Trust me when I say this breed of human is harmless, even somewhat adorable with that lost little look in their eyes and obnoxious wedge of cheese on their head. But underneath that fromage adorned mug, ticks something else, something . . . special; yea that’s it, special. As I passed along the cubes of seasoned chicken and skewers over to my little sous chef, his enthusiastic smile and head nod reassured me everything was going to be just fine.
Standing proudly next to my grill, I waited as calmly as one who was engulfed in an asphyxiating cloud of thick hickory smoke could. Just seconds before I succumbed to BBQ death glory, the smoke was parted by a tray of kabobs. I quickly began to toss everything onto the grates when something odd caught my eye. I squinted and dipped my face toward the mouth of the grill, focused on the veggies wedged between the chicken. A cucumber???? WTF!!!! Apparently my little Packers fan diced up a few of these and packed them right next to all the chicken.
Now you’re probably thinking, Evan this is hardly a big deal. I did Google “Grilled Cucumber” to see what kind of product this would yield; and you want to know how many recipes showed up!!!!!! THREE, across the entire Introweb Googleverse an astonishing three recipes came back for grilled cucumber. And you want to know what these three folks concluded? The same thing I did; it’s bad.
But just like he can’t help being a Packers fan, the same can be said for his kitchen knowledge. All was forgiven and pints were raised to a day well done. What stomach real estate wasn’t filled by the kabobs, was quickly filled with a couple essentials that you should include in your next game day gathering.
–Couple pounds of prosicutto and provolone stuffed Italian sausage: This heavenly combo could make the most devout atheist shout Hallelujah in joy. I prefer to grill these, chop em’ up, and toss toothpicks in for easy grabbing.
–Antipasto: I like to take a fun twist on this broad dish and compose a bold and filling platter. In a circle, spread out a half pound of Bresaola followed by fresh Buffalo Mozzarella, sliced tomatos, halved pepper shooters (prosciutto and parmigiano stuffed peppers) and drop a heap of fresh arugula in the center. Drizzle with olive oil, and salt and pepper your little heart out.
–Asparagus: Well this doesn’t quite fit into the the theme eh? It’s good no matter which way you cook it, and it makes it look like you gave a half hearted attempt to spare everyones, well . . . heart. (If you want to stay in max not healthy mode, just sprinkle a ton of cheese over these little guys)
And there you have it, my recent Sunday and NFL week 3 came and went with a bang. And while you Iggles fans struggle to bounce back from this week’s loss harder than the Cruz/Aso missed tackle collision, I’ll be practicing my Tiger Woods fist pump in anticipation for my next Lions victory. But fear not Philly fans and Phanatics alike, the MLB playoffs are amongst us; and while you guys go on your expected tear towards the pennant, I might be sulking in the suds of my Detroit Tigers mug.
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