I'm sure you're all recovering from last night, celebrating one of American's favorite days of the year. I'm one of the few American's that's not so into the whole football game hype, myself (shocker, I know. I'm sure you all envisioned me decked out in full Steelers regalia whipping a Terrible Towel and whooping til my voice was raw. . .)
Yesterday evening, as I sat watching a ridiculous movie on IFC and eating some green beans, I was thinking that this was the first time in probably 5 or so years that I decided not attended a Superbowl party. Obviously, any Superbowl party I've attended has not been for the sake of football. I don't know a down from a . . .uh I can't think of any other football terms. . .fumble(?) And sure the commercials are sometimes entertaining, but mostly they're just weird and all I can think about it how many millions of dollars went into a commercial of Adrian Brody singing for Stella Artois and it still doesn't make me want a beer.
No, what brings me year after year to friends' Superbowl parties is the food. Delicious dips oozing with 8 kinds of cheese and green chiles, and salsa. Chicken wings and sliders and my personal fav, football themed brownies and cookies and cakes. oh my.
I feel like Superbowl is a game of gastronomic chicken (no pun intended) where we battle it out to see which will win, our eyes or our stomach. (kind of like thanksgiving, and Christmas, and Easter, and Fourth of July, and . . .)
Anyway, I'm not trying to make some grave point about the state of Americans and our eating habits. Nothing that important. My real point: last night I was sort of missing all the Superbowl goodies I was giving up, but this morning when I woke up without a queso hangover, or a canker sore from eating too many sweets I thought, "maybe I'm onto something here."
Next year I think I'm going to bring carrot sticks or ants on a log to the Superbowl party I attend. I'm sure they'll be a big hit.
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