Sometime ago, I happened upon a s’mores post on How Sweet It Is offering up 13 recipes on the gooey-goodness. Of course, I happened upon the page while I was “working” at the front desk instead of “working” in the stacks like the good book slave I am. And of course, my coworkers, let’s call them the Mikes, sat with me at the front desk also working. I ticked off a few names linked to their recipes, but nothing really caught my attention because I was busy checking out other recipes on another window. Before x-ing out the window, I scrolled to the bottom of the post, the last image. Wait. Wait just a bloody second. Is that…Is that….? Oh. My. Taco-god! That’s fucking bacon! It’s the holy trinity of culinary divinity sandwiched between two graham crackers. The ooey-gooey messiah come to feed us his body. Of course, at the utterance of bacon, my coworkers became interested on my computer screen.
“That’s what we’re having at our next together,” Mike said.
“I want to try that,” Mike nodded.
“It shall be done!” I exclaimed, throwing back my chair as I stood, and clicked the like to its recipe which I printed and wondered why I stood up in the first place.
Friday, after work, I headed for the liquor store. As a non-drinker, paying a visit to liquor stores is on par as finding another world within a wardrobe. I found honey bourbon, but that’s not what I wanted. I found every sort of bourbon, but not regular every day bourbon. Finally, a worker saw my utter confusion and asked if I needed help. “Yeah,” I felt defeated, “I just want regular every day bourbon. No honey or pepper jack cheese, just straight up bourbon.” He aimed me at the right direction and I stood in front of the shelves and I stared at it. Sonuvafuckingbitch, there are like a million varieties of the same fucking booze. I grabbed Devil’s Cut (because it felt right and I loved the bottle it was in) and paid my $30 and left. This afternoon (being Sunday), I followed the recipe (though I still haven’t come around to buy a candy thermometer so I sorta just stuck my finger into the boiling sugar concoction to decide whether it was 240 degrees*).
We got to the park at little after six where we failed to talk about the anime we watched (these outings are actually gatherings for our anime club), Nyan Koi!, though Angela and I both expressed our disappointment with the open-ending. Mike brought child-friendly marshmallows for Shaun and his daughter while Mike and his girlfriend brought cake and cookie brownies. We played, we joked, and Jeanna, Shaun and I left first (keeping with tradition). The bourbon marshmallow was a hit.
Next month’s discussion will follow Elfen Lied, which is no longer on Netflix (sonuvabitch!), but no bother. I liked that one enough to own it (though I’ll probably wind up downloading streaming it).
*Didn’t happen—DON’T TRY IT AT HOME!
Chapin City Blues 