While the teams are making late preparations, so are we. They’ve assessed their health–who can go and who can’t, how they match up with their opponent, what works and what doesn’t and how they see it all unfolding. Simultaneously, we have pondered our menu, checked on available ingredients, what goes with what and what doesn’t, matched up main dishes with sides, and also assessed what works and what doesn’t and how we see it all unfolding…

Manning puts corndogs on the table…New Orleans a huge early favorite…

So, we got 1 out of 2 of our picks for the Super Bowl.  The Cinderella Jets were a stretch, admittedly, but when faced with the prospects of “corn casserole,” and other classic Indiana foods, we had to root for New York.  Thank God; and it was divine intervention, wasn’t it, that put the Saints in the big game and New Orleans food on at least half our Super Bowl table.

I played, coached and studied football for many years, but even for me, the game itself is not enough when it comes to the Super Bowl. A phenomenon that the National Football League has successfully promoted to the masses since its inception, the Super Bowl is part of the fabric of the American tablecloth, even among those who don’t know the difference between a first-down and a touchdown.

You see, my plan was to have a low-key, quiet celebration where CBB and I cook for a few friends I’ve been wanting to cook for and hadn’t gotten together with in a while. Add some family who are stopping through to top off the holiday season and quickly the numbers rise, but not to the level of many 50th mega-celebrations. Bill and I will cook, a few toasts may be offered, and we’ll all go quietly. Hardly. Like George Bailey of Bedford Falls, my plans were supplanted by seminal forces beyond my control…