maggiethecat

Sue: You're gonna have to clean the coffee from my keyboard.

By way of introduction: =Mark is absolutely right when he says that one writer can't do a full and accurate report of this event. Some folks were smoking on the tennis court, some were tending the gas grill, some were kitchen brigade, and others flitted from station to station. There were foraging parties for ham, basil and beer. (One of my fondest memories is the expression of disbelief and disgust on Dave's and Guajolote's faces when they discovered that Whole Paycheck doesn't carry Tabasco Sauce.) Here's a View from the Fridge, or more accurately, a View from the Sink. Malawry doesn't suck. At all. Her energy, good cheer and tireless effort with the kitchen brigade astonished all who had the privilege of sharing counterspace with her. Edemuth was a quiet force for all that is good and right in the kitchen. Who was the first to drag out a knife on Thursday afternoon (and the first to breach the beer fridge?) No surprise of course: that would be the King of the Heartland, Guajolote! And there is no one I would rather peel thirty pounds of potatoes with than the Mod with the Mostest, my sista' Aurora. But the winner for the Kitchen Stud award has to go to my longtime editor and sometime collaborator, Dave the Cook. The man arrived with a truckload of every conceivable kitchen item, a sheaf of recipes, a cooler full of food and the stamina of a twenty-year-old line cook. He doesn't suck. It was nothing but a joy to navigate the kitchen maze with these folks and the others who pitched in; they are too numerous to mention, but I treasure the memory of Scott Shorter cleaning a mountain of collards. Meals for the children (all eGullet kids are Above Average, by the way) were dispatched, bourbon sauce was heated (thank you Weka!) folks made their way through to the beer fridge… And: As usual the eGull made flesh is always even smarter, funnier and better looking than the poster I've come to love. I can't name 'em all, because it's such a long list, but the crew that hung out near the kitchen (or hung around with the Bad Kids outside the kitchen door on smoke breaks) were Absolutely Fabulous. Katie and Blondie, I wish you lived in Chicago. Al Dente: Tall, dark, handsome and Funny! Those Shorters… And of course, the McCords. (And the Taylors.) Dean was everywhere, making this everyone's weekend to remember. And, seriously, when I grow up I want to be like Cella McCord: Gracious, smart, organized, patient and beautiful. Thank you. Thank you. I tasted grits for the first time. They sure don't suck.

Swap 'em!

48, 054. (Kris, you are in serious denial, ma chere! ) Some great choices here---love the Paula Peck!

When Nero, Fritz and I were walking up to Guajolote's house for the Paellapalooza this July, there were already three squads parked outside. Said Nero: "Shit, we're on time, and it looks as if the party really got started without us!" (Chicago's finest were investigating some other household.)

Prepare to be amazed.

So do real Northerners. I'll tote some bourbon from Chicago.

What, only 38 tons? That's kind of chintzy for our beloved Mr. g. Seriously, I can't wait to see the meeting of Dean and my other brother Dean. Especially as Suzanne notes that they resemble each other .

For a completely, totally, impeccably scientific look at this phenom, and of course, shameless self-promotion ( ) some of you may not have read this: Our Cravings, Ourselves

48,044.

The indomitable spirit of a woman who wants her son to have nice new furniture. I love it. We'll all be disappointed if you and Rachel can't make it, but as Dean said: This may be a very easy choice. Here's hoping your Mom is on the mend soon.

Jude: You kvell all you want, Proud Mama! Heck, I'm proud of my (limited) assocaiation with Mamster hereabouts, and I'm not his kith and kin. You have a right to preen a little. (I will buy one copy!) Flocko: Ah, the joys of redicovery. Wesza: An amazing collection and a truly touching glimpse into the life of your family. 48, 038.

(Ain't nobody has anything on Jaymes!)

Right now, leg of lamb sounds great. (But actually so do all the alternatives except maybe goose. Goose is demanding.)

46, 021. (Help Boris out, someone! ) OK. This is a really, really rough estimate. Taking the total number of books, dividing by the total number of posts, while backing out an (estimated) number of mine I make it: An average of 115 cookbooks, and you know, that sounds about right. Or: 8.71 miles.

Al: All the previous suggestions are excellent, and as Marie-Louise mentioned, if there's a nearby table...heck, use it! But be of good cheer! I made Thanksgiving Dinner for crying out loud, in my daughter's kitchen, which bears a striking resemblance to yours, except that you have a godly gas stove, while I was re-teaching myself to cook with her electric range. I found that I had to be much better organized, couldn't be sloppy with the cooking schedule, and needed to clean up as I went along. Perhaps for those reasons, it was actually the easiest, smoothest full-bore turkey, trimmings, pies Thanksgiving dinner I've ever made. I just needed to make a tiny right brain shift.

You may already be a Winner! I'm taking the Smackdown to the people. I see great writing here every day just by reading your posts, and you're going unrewarded for all that brilliance, wit, and hard-hitting Food Journalism. Also, I suspect that many of you are too busy, too bashful or too damn lazy to show off your writing chops here at the Smackdown, where they belong. I'll be keeping a list of the terrific material that you've been posting, and award prizes to the Top Three Literary Posts over the next couple of weeks. My fellow judges, JAZ and Dave the Cook, will also be on the alert, and I hereby announce that I expect lots of PMs from them. And from you! I can't be everywhere and still go through the motions of having a normal life, so if you spot something particularly tasty, please send it my way. Self-nomination is just fine. Deadline: Midnight, October 12th.

So Coy, Suzanne! (I understand) Make that 45,447.

We'll miss you, Rhea. And we'll look forward to your posts on your meals in Singapore. Well, after you unpack, that is!

45,445. And yes, books about food history, etc. definitely count. That's 8.6 miles, folks. I can just about drive to that new Chipotle.

45,220.

So...how did it turn out? Tasting notes?

Suvir: We here at eGullet would be plain selfish to begrudge you the time you need to devote to your exciting new projects. And, to echo Jinmyo, your upcoming posts will be even more precious.

Yeah. With a lightbulb in his mouth!

Yup. That about handles it; I can hardly wait. (Re Abnormal Psych Departments: If Mrs. Dr. V. has any Psychiatrist medical colleagues in attendance at the Pig Pickin', I wonder what he or she will make of the assembled eGulls.)