Competition: Round Seventeen

[maggiethecat]

I love brussel sprouts more than I love most of the human race. I carry a torch for creme brulee. Mac and Cheese and me? That's some Crazy Love.

For our First Annual Valentine's Day Smackdown, write a mash note to a food of your choice. Make that meatloaf (or larb or foam) feel the love.

You're discreet, right? I'll let you read mine.

***********

Baby:

Don't be mad at me; I never tried to hide my past from you. I know I've got a Bad Girl reputation in bars, IHOPs and noodle shops from here to Ho Chi Minh City. Hell, my behavior has raised eyebrows in a couple of joints with Michelin stars. I bet you've even heard guys joking about me in locker rooms: "She's got round heels for rye bread. " "Forget roses, Buddy. You'll get to third base with rice pudding." "She's a spaghetti Slut."

I've had affairs with every simple carbohydrate who so much as winked at me. A dab of butter behind his ear, some olive oil aftershave and I'm as easy as a bag of fast food fries. I can't bring myself to tell you about my squalid history with spuds and my unnatural acts with rotini---you wouldn't respect me. When I met you I was coming off a crazy fling with a risotto slick as a Lamborghini Diablo handrubbed with truffle oil. He hadn't told me about out his pencil-thin asparagus spears. Ciao, Baby.

I'd heard about you of course, but I don't get south of the Mason-Dixon very often. But I thought you were kinda cute the way you called me "Ma'am" at that Waffle House – maybe not Potatoes Byron, but a nice change from a Saturday night with polenta. So I said sure, I'd meet you for dinner.

I'll never forget the way you smiled at me across a crowded room, perched on that red-tiled bar. God, you looked so artisanal my molars floated! I remember thinking that you must have blown your whole paycheck on those shrimp. But Darling, I knew it was the Real Thing when I got up close for a sniff of your redeye gravy. Do you remember how good it was for breakfast next morning, after I'd rubbed you in melted duck fat and sizzled you under the broiler?

A long distance romance is never easy. But look on the bright side, Valentine -- up here you won't need to worry about me whoring around with hominy.

Because a good plate of shrimp grits is hard to find.

I know I'm corny,

Maggie

Get mushy here.

[Marlene]

Maggie, I'm not sure anyone can beat this anyway

[maggiethecat]

Maggie, I'm not sure anyone can beat this anyway  

Thanks, Sistergirl, but you're wrong. Just think about all those bacon fetishists!

And you really should write a love letter to Butter Tart Squares -- or I will!

[Marlene]

Maggie, I'm not sure anyone can beat this anyway  

Thanks, Sistergirl, but you're wrong. Just think about all those bacon fetishists!

And you really should write a love letter to Butter Tart Squares -- or I will!

got a better idea. A battle for the heart shaping up. Let me sleep on it!

[tanabutler]

I was too timid to post what Marlene did, but I sure thought it.

[Mabelline]

Damn, I feel like this calls for a missive about that on again, off again relationship I'm in with Beef (that big hunk!). Will have to look our old letters up!

[maggiethecat]

Damn, I feel like this calls for a missive about that on again, off again relationship I'm in with Beef (that big hunk!). Will have to look our old letters up!

Yeah, Beef, that sweet Big Lunk! Untie the ribbon that wraps that bundle of old love letters, Maybelline.

[Mayhaw Man]

I'm going to start working on my "Ode to Okra" right away.

[maggiethecat]

Um, still waiting for the Ode to Okra -- and black and blue Porterhouse.

Deadline: Midnight February 14th in a time zone of your choice.

[maggiethecat]

I made hoecakes for breakfast, and I must say that they were so good that I considered a brief fling. But nah, not on Valentine's Day.

Poor larb...not so much a doily on a heart-shaped piece of construction paper.

Get romantic people. I, for one, am off to kiss my grits.