So, on this particular Sunday, not quite getting along as it is, Scott's fighting the urge to say it, and I'm fighting the urge to laugh about it anyway, remembering it in my head. No one wants to laugh in a fight! The fight would end! Who wants to end a fight after all that momentum? Ha ha... so we're trying pretty hard to stay grouchy when a song comes on our favorite radio station KRCL 90.9. It's some man (probably in a black ribbed turtle-neck with a boulder cap and an groovy group snapping in the background) singing a pretty jazzy tune about "chocolate bacon cake." Did I hear that right? Is the man on the radio singing about chocolate bacon cake? That's disgusting. Right? It's disgusting. I tried to picture what that would look like. You're probably trying to figure out what that would look like too.
Yeah... okay. So, gross. We all agree? (pregnant women may not weigh in on the vote)
Scott and I are toast. It's like a smiling contest where you're sitting a foot away from each other, staring each other down, fish-facing, trying hard to bite your cheeks in so you don't smile first and lose, or even worse, crack a giggle or guffaw and lose. What with the Charleston and this dapper dude on the radio, there's no sense in trying to hang on to a fight.
This is one of my favorite moments with Scott, and not really applicable to my day or anything going on right now, so I'm not sure why it came to mind (maybe its his thing for Julia Child and I watched that blogging movie over Christmas break). But when it did I wanted to track it down so we could remember that moment. I just love Scott! I love that he can appreciate these things. Irony in everyday moments. A creepy looking baby at church. Katie Perry concerts. He laughs hard at all the same things I think are funny (we don't laugh at creepy babies... just make mental notes). That's a reassuring feeling that you're going to have a lot of fun together.
I am still searching for a recording (can't get the same effect without it). But you can conjure up some pretty delicious images just by reading the lyrics. If you want to recreate it in the comfort of your home or for future career guidance if you are considering this line of work, just speak in a slow, monotone, resonant basso profundo and ask someone to nod their head and snap along side you. Wear sunglasses. Drink chai. Enjoy.
Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night
So many things a person wants
Are not found in restaurants
When I suffer from heartbreak
I like some Chocolate Bacon Cake
You won't find it on the grocery shelf
You've got to make it for yourself
You have to keep it very quiet
But someday you ought to try it
At night when no one is awake
Chocolate Bacon Cake.
Don't be scandalized, don't be flustered
But I love fried eggs with a smear of mustard
And now I'm alone and everyone's gone
I fry the eggs, get out the Dijon
And smear it on a couple slices.
Mustard. I feel like Dionysus
And may I add in parentheses
Anything is good with cheese.
Meatloaf stuffed with ricotta
If you haven't had it, maybe you oughta.
Meatloaf in which ricotta is piled.
You won't find it in Julia Child
But it's so juicy and delicious
You eat it and it softly squishes
Or for a taste of true romance
A grilled cheese sandwich with pecans,
Green onions, swiss cheese, and yes ma'am
A dollop of raspberry jam.
Or cheese and peanut butter on white bread
Dipped in batter, I've heard it said,
Dipped in batter and then deep fried
A secret pleasure that must be tried.
No, you won't find it in Julia
But deep fried peanut butter is truly a
Life saver, and nothing is better
Than toast with jam, baloney and cheddar
Or eggs and cheese and grits and toss
On a squirt or two of Tabasco sauce
Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night
So many things a person wants
Are not found in restaurants
And if nobody else is near—
A glass of tomato juice with beer
If it's dark I might spread
Peanut butter on soft white bread
And a couple pickles on the side,
Eat it and feel pacified
Or peanut butter, mustard, and baloney
A delicacy among the Shoshone
There's nothing cures your cares and woes
Quite like a couple sloppy Joes.
Julia loved her joes to be sloppy.
She wrote it in her French Chef copy
Sloppy Joes calmed and steadied her.
It was taken out by an editor.
Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night
So many things a person wants
Are not found in restaurants
If you're in need of sympathy,
Try chocolate, basil, and brie
In a panini, heated, and which
Could be followed by a peanut butter banana sandwich
Which some say is the most
Delicious served up on burnt toast.
Others cure their miseries
With pancakes made with cottage cheese.
Or go to the kitchen, get out the bowls
Have chili and cinnamon roll.
You don't know what pleasure means
The acme of the world's cuisines
The epitome of class and status—
Put baked beans on baked potatoes.
Lay them out in two nice stratas
Baked beans on baked potatoes.
Don't tell them or him or her
It's what you secretly prefer
And if you're still hungry, for goodness sake,
There's always Chocolate Bacon cake.
Forbidden tastes, secret delights
Guilty pleasures late at night
(For the record, I've been known to put some strange things on my sandwiches. When you're a river guide, and you have the same ingredients for a sandwich to work with every day... you start to get creative. Lettuce sandwiches... I've done peanut butter and pickles... tomato and raspberry jam. The first time I made a sandwich for Scott (Lake Tahoe. 2008. Jim Gribble's house. First date.), I think I made it with strawberries and pineapple with dijon, spinach and turkey. I don't remember his reaction.)
