HUNGRY GERALD

Back home in The Land of Enchantment (AKA New Mexico). Rainy and chilly. Welcome after baking in the Florida sun for a week. Rummaged through a week’s worth of catalogs, junk mail, bills and magazines. HG/BSK decided to eat out of the freezer. Long flight to Albuquerque led the duo too tired to shop. HG lunched on a package of pierogi that had slept in a corner of the freezer for a year. HG ate one. Vile. Left the rest for Toby, The Wonder Dog. He’ll find them yummy. BSK found some very tasty feta and spinach chicken sausage in the freezer. HG plucked some Louisiana boudin sausage that had found a home beneath a bag of corn niblets. Package prose vouched for its “Genuine Cajun Taste.” While these frozen foods thawed, HG swam many laps in HG/BSK’s heated (80 degrees) pool. Felt like the Gulf of Mexico. The exercise sharpened HG’s appetite. Blaze in the fireplace chased away rain dampness. HG sipped a new cocktail (drunk in Brooklyn and Paris); The Chin Up. Gin, dry vermouth, slice of cucumber crushed with a pinch of salt, Cynar (the French artichoke aperitif). A refreshing and not too inebriating drink. BSK grilled the chicken sausages and served them with a robust green salad enriched with roasted peppers and BSK’s super savory blue cheese dressing. Good eating. HG grilled the boudin. Turned out to be a mushy, tasteless horror. In the future, HG will stick to the French versions of boudin—boudin noir and boudin blanc. Of the two, HG prefers noir, a hearty blood sausage. Accompanied by sautéed apple slices and a rough red wine (HG likes Cahors) this is French down home cooking at its best. HG will leave true southern version of boudin to the Cajuns. The stuff doesn’t travel well. Doggy gourmand Toby will gobble up the left over terrible boudin and bark his appreciation.