Paul E. Anna: High Points
The Aspen Times
Aspen, CO Colorado
With the possible exception of Thanksgiving, Super Bowl Sunday is America’s greatest eating holiday.
OK, so I know that Super Bowl Sunday is not an official holiday, that there is no subsequent Monday off, that the government has not made an official proclamation to sanction it a holiday. But still, most Americans I know get giddy-er at the prospect of the season’s final NFL game than they do about, say Presidents Day.
And while the game makes for a nice distraction, I think the national obsession has much more to do with food and drink than it does the Tampa-2 defense. Americans who care not a whit about whether Drew Brees can sidestep a still menacing-even-with-a-pronounced-limp Dwight Freeney, or if Reggie Bush can pound it and run away from defenders like he did against the Cards, will still show up at more than 43 million parties to dip chips, gnaw on wings and crush a slice or six of pizza. Yum.
In its infinite wisdom the NFL (which by the way has much higher approval ratings than Congress, the president and Fox News combined) has strategically placed the Super Bowl in the first week of February, far enough away from the Christmas/New Year’s holidays that everyone is over their “gotta lose 10 pounds” resolutions and back in the mood for a major chow down. It’s cold, so comfort food sounds great and the nature of the event – four to 10 hours of mind-numbing television – makes it perfect for mindless nibbling. Not to mention drinking. Hallmark could not have done a better job creating a marketing opportunity, er… holiday.
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My personal favorite foods for Super Bowl Sunday are a cornucopia of regional recipes from around this great land of ours that see the dinner table far too infrequently.
To wit, this Sunday we’re gearing up for the big game with wings cooked in hot sauce from the Buffalo’s Anchor Bar where the legend began, Johnsonville Brats, grilled just like they do them in the frozen tundra outside Green Bay’s Lambeau Field, covered with Sauerkraut, good guacamole and chips from California’s creamiest avocados and some killer spicy baked beans with Jimmy Dean sausage just like they used to make back home in Texas every Christmas.
All this sounds great and will taste even better at around 5:30 p.m. Sunday evening sometime after the Saints take their first lead and Pete Townshend and Roger Daltry (who turns 66 on March 1. What ever happened to My gggggen….eration?) take the stage for the halftime show. Be sure you get enough to eat.
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