More Things That Are in My Stomach

What's in my stomach today? Well, it's been a big weekend.

Is there funnel cake (eaten in the sunshine at a real Fair)?

Yes.

Is there asparagus tip salad with a mint-thyme vinaigrette?

Sure.

Are there sweet potato biscuits?

Uh huh.

Grilled tenderloin in a rosemary sauce?

Yes.

Roast beef on Sun-dried tomato bread with KY Bleu sauce?

Of course.

Babycake cupcakes?

I don't see why not.

Lime-buttered shrimp?

You betcha.

There's a lot more that I'm just too dizzy to remember.

This same weekend every year I get to judge a food fundraiser, and the next morning I always go to the St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Fair for the second funnel cake of the season (the first is supposed to be at MayFest in case you hadn't heard). Since I judge everything and everyone all day everyday, for fun, it's nice to be invited to do it in a professional capacity.

I go to a lot of fundraisers every year, and this is one of my two favorites.

It's fun to watch all those women dress up and then try to stab each other to death with sporks over that last pan-seared bite of bass (when I sear stuff, it usually IS in a pan, so I don't get that -- does it distinguish it from Bic-seared bass?)

It's more entertaining to watch the men stampede through the doors, frantic that they won't get to drink 65 bucks worth of booze in the allotted time.
(AA: it's not just for losers, buddy.)

Other than that, I don't function well in crowds, so what I love is to go in early and get to talk to the proprietors about their food. Some of the big chains just send waitresses to schlep the chow, but it's nice to meet the Mom & Pop owners and the chefs.

The scene at St. E's the next day is different -- all the alcohol, but add gambling! And a rummage sale. Where everything is a buck a bag. "Awesome" doesn't even begin to describe it.

I only know that because of my Mom. For years, I would've disdained anything that could be purchased by the bag, but after dragging me in there for years, I must admit: she was right and I was wrong.

You can shove ANYthing in that bag: toys, books, toasters, dishes. All for a buck.

Today, I scored maybe six Gap t-shirts, thoughtfully broken in just the way I like em by nice Catholic girls like me; a bunch of paper plate holders; two AnnTaylor skirts; and a VINTAGE hardcover edition of The Thornbirds (!) Which I got mostly so I could say I found it at a Catholic rummage sale.

I nearly bought a big eggplant-colored chair for my office bit it wouldn't fit in my bag and was labeled 30 bucks. I wasn't sure I could get it in the car anyway, and I kept hearing my Mom's voice in the back of my head: "I would not give a DIME over 10 bucks for that."

She could totally say that to a table full of Nuns. But I couldn't.