Superbowl XLII has just started and dinner at Flat Thirtysix is wrapping up. We're awfully close to breaking our record for number of attendees at a party. I have to say that we are the Iron Chefs. We cooked hamburgers for a flat-full of people one-at-a-time on a George Foremnan (TM) Grill. Who needs one of these bohemeth gas-fueled contraptions, when you have access to thirty-six square inches of cooking space right on your kitchen counter? Not us.
J also made two of his famous apple pies, complete with latticework on the top. I picked up my slice (served a la mode) just in time for our national anthem to start playing on the tele. There we were, P, A, and I, standing in the back of the room eating apple pie and singing along to the Star Spangled Banner. I submit that it doesn't get more American than that.
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