Paula Deen and the butter controversy have become quite out of hand. Now, I'm torn since Anthony Bourdain, with his sarcastic wit, is a favorite; but Paula is my idol. I dream about having my own cooking show in my mid 60's, where I cook with an abundance of saturated fats while flirting with much younger men. Is that so wrong? Plus, Tony, isn't it quite hypocritical to call Paula "America's worst enemy" while you have chain smoked, drank yourself under the table and eaten fried poop chute in underdeveloped countries?
So in support of our Diabetic friend, a group of good friends from my school and my sister, the original foodie, traveled to see Paula and Michael (a Johnny Carson and Ed McMahon southern style) live on stage. We rode the train, drank wine with cheese, ate at Jamie's Broadway Grill, drank cappuccino at an obscure coffee shop and ate breakfast at our hotel: Citizen's Hotel. I'll let you in on a little secret: Paula was staying there, too. We saw her hubby Michael and after a very star struck Miller Lite blubbered to him, we took pictures of him crossing the street. Awkward.
And now it's time to cook for Superbowl. I have no idea who is playing but I already know the menu.
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