My food helped the Panthers win, and I’m proud of it.Desserts / December 8, 2015
Charlotte has become a TRUE football town… A grid-iron village, an NFL eating machine, a relentless huddled mass of teal-wearing screaming cat-lovers on every corner. And this Sunday was no exception when we gathered with good friends to watch the Carolina Panthers escape losing to become 12 and 0. Undeafeated, ya’ll. The dream team right here in our own backyard.
“Dessert, please!” Jess texted when I inquired what to bring. “And, by the way, since we intend to eat the Saints, the food theme is all Cajun.”
Excellent! I know this. New Orleans rocks the food world. So as I pondered on my assignment, I realized without hesitation that as long as you add Bourbon to your dish you’re just about speaking Cajun fluently. So the decision to make a raisin and pecan bread pudding, unabashedly spiked with the best Bourbon and caramel sauce, was an easy choice. And what will I call it? Dead Saints Bread Pudding. It was an omen and an answer to a prayer in one dish.
You think I’m kidding, but unless you were there you can’t rebut my story so just listen closely. Wandering between viewing stations in our host’s home — a monster screen in the family room and an equally pixel-powered monitor on the back patio — we all circled, nervously doing our best to repeat every ritual we had ever performed to insure a victory. Superstitions are a powerful tool when it comes to sports, but I now know that sugar is the ultimate weapon!
When I preheated the oven during halftime, the score was not skewed in our favor. Cam Newton looked off-balance, uneasy, and not as confident as he had even in previous games where they’d found themselves trailing by a field goal or two. Something was wrong. And then, as I stared at the screen — and this is no lie — he looked RIGHT BACK AT ME!
“Time for the Saints to Die…” he said, forming the words with care so I wouldn’t miss the message and assume he was just spitting into his face guard. “I got ya, Cam. One Dead Saints Pudding, on the way.” I breathed back with oven mitts in hand. And by the time I was pouring the caramel sauce over the golden tipped goodness we had already started our march to a win, and all was well in Panther-land.
And so it is, that the Panthers #keeppounding because I was there when Cam needed me, and just happened to have 7 eggs, Maker’s Mark bourbon, and a hankering for hanging with friends…#gopanthers!