Well, to celebrate this occasion, I feel I should blog about something that means a lot to me. Something that changed my life forever.
Not just any potato, friends. This was a life altering spud of epic proportions. I'm not kidding when I say that for weeks after this potato incident, I couldn't go more than 3 days without mentioning it. People, this tuber consumed my thoughts. It's story time:
Over Thanksgiving, my Li'l Brudder and Seester and I went to southish Texas to see my Dad. Not ON Thanksgiving, but the day before, we went to this small town eatery for lunch. It was some manner of barbecue place and so they obviously had baked potatoes. They had something I had officially never seen before, but I was so intrigued, and it sounded so delicious that I ordered it. (Looking back, I am SO glad I did and yet I also have a healthy {ha, healthy} amount of regret tied to the experience. Mainly because after I ate it, I wanted to die. So much potato... anyway, back to the story.)
The potato I ordered ended up being about the size of a softball and a half. That is not remotely a small potato, or even a medium one. This potato meant business. It had my standard potato trappings of butter, cheese and sour cream, but here's where the magic happened: There was a chicken fried steak on, nay, in this potato. A whole chicken fried steak. On/In this mammoth potato. And white gravy, because you can't eat a chicken fried steak without white gravy.
That's the part that I look upon fondly. The actual potato. Eating the whole thing? I don't exactly look upon that with the same sense of nostalgia and general happiness associated with good food memories. *whew*
Anyway, to you who read this and see my delightful potato as an abomination to food everywhere, I am sad for you. Maybe it's just my general Southern upbringing that makes me particularly susceptible to the wiles of foods of this nature, but either way... that potato affected my life more than some people, and for that, it gets its own commemorative blog post.
And now a picture of a lizard on a chaise lounge (because this is what I found when I was trying to find a graphic of the number 100):
Hiliarious. Explanation here.
4 comments:
you made my day with "spud of epic proportions."
and then made it again with that picture.
thank you.
I live to serve. Hahah!
I'm not feeling well today and I guess I should have skipped reading your blog especially as my cat starting throwing up all his 9 Lives Ocean Whitefish at the same time you're babbling something about chicken in potatos? What the hell? I'm so glad I live in the Michigan.
Oh, and congrats on the 100th post (I'm trying to generate some enthusiasm here, help me out!) but I don't get the gecko.
You're going to have to divulge the location of the epic-spud-producing-restaurant! Because I'm fairly certain if we make a road trip out there, I can convince Chris to eat two. It will be amazing.
Also, on the topic of "things that give me severe heartburn by merely thinking of them," check out http://www.bombfood.com/
It's gastro-tastic. Or something. I don't know.
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