Dirty Rice

Tonight I realized for the first time ever that I behaved like an obnoxious LSU fan. I hope it was the first time I behaved that way and not the first time I was aware of it.

I'm standing in line at the grocery store. I've purchased the makings for dirty rice. The cashier (let me note very ditsy but full of extraordinary personality) comments on my Lousiana (Trim and Terrific) cookbook in my basket. I say I'm making Dirty Rice for the game tomorrow. Foolish assumption #1: She knows - or cares - that LSU is playing UNC tomorrow. C'mon - this is not completely foreign. We are talking an in-state team. I'm not asking her to follow the Bayou Bengals.

Then I very casually say something about those UNC boys already making the Tigers look good. For those of you who may not know, roughly 15 Tarheels were not allowed to fly to Atlanta. (Did they take a page from the SMU rule book?) According to NPR this afternoon, there have been some questionable activities going on as far a player - sports agent contact. So some of the boys had to stay home. Here is foolish assumption #2: the cashier and the lady behind me knew this tidbit, and as for foolish assumption #3: I just figured any good Southern broad gave at least a hoot about football. (Silly me.)

TOTAL SILENCE.

In fact, the personable cashier lost all her personality. Ouch.

Mind you, I am in general a sweet girl. Due to the fact that I would hate their job, I try to be excessively kind to every cashier I meet. I think they deserve smiles and sincere conversation. I worry that people don't pay attention to them all day long.

Then I go and act like that. A smarty pants and possibly an obnoxious fan. Granted this was not full-fledged, drunken bantering. That is something LSU fans are remarkably good at. No, this was just an underhanded comment that the two women I was sassing to couldn't have cared less about.

Oh to go back to the land where football is a religion and the smell of fresh cut grass makes you think of high school Friday nights. Oh me.

So I've been rehashing my smart mouth while I made my first batch ever of Dirty Rice.

I have a picky eater on my hands tomorrow. If it's white he doesn't like it - unless it's turkey or white bread. (Seriously?) We don't get much past pizza or steak with this one. So what in hells bells do you feed him? There isn't enough of a crowd to do jambalaya. I'd be eating it for two weeks. I wanted to do something new, but I also wanted to be sure the south Louisiana influence was present.

So the Dirty Rice...it was very easy, and it seemed as though hamburger meat and rice could cover a number of picky eating sins. It did turn out delish. It is still a little too hot to really taste yet. The red and black pepper would be blowing Mama out of the water, but I double the Worcestershire sauce and added some salt. As it cools off the dish it tasting quite yummy!

I've got my dirty rice mopping up some good flavor overnight. I've pulled out the "34" jersey. Thanks goodness Stevan has kept his number again this year. And my (newly) obnoxious attitude is obviously engaged. Looks like we're sitting on "Geaux!"