So, I tossed up a little update on the Hollygrove Box Sunday, and my wife was spectacularly unimpressed by my prose. She let me know that my post was the literary equivalent of an Applebee’s chicken finger, or whatever it is they have at Applebee’s. Now this is the same love of my life who said “not your best work,” when referring to a labor day party invitation I emailed, so you see what I’m up against.
With that in mind, I’ll attempt to elevate this post. Let’s get real: I’m not shooting for an August or Stella! level post. I’d just like to be somewhere north of Catch, if you know what I mean. And if it doesn’t work out, I can always blame the oil spill and rebrand my posts as tapas posts. Literary small plates. All the cool bloggers are doing it.
I thought this was so good that I had to post the recipe, especially with Thanksgiving on the way. The bad news is that if your family is like ours, sweet potatoes have long been spoken for, with Aunt Louise or Myrtle or Thelma toting the same recipe full of marshmellows and brown sugar to the big gathering each year. This is a far healthier and incredibly tasty alternative, but it might be easier to get it past the Jazzfest food committee than into the Thanksgiving table rotation. You might want to challenge Aunt Louise to a throwdown, Bobby Flay style. As we all know, there’s an aspect of family gatherings somewhat akin to driving slowly past a car wreck, unable to avert our eyes, and this will fit right in. Imagine the glee you’ll add to your cousins’ day as you call out Aunt Louise across the table. Try to drop a few f-bombs when you do it. It goes without saying that you’ll need to bribe your relatives with alcohol to secure your victory. One way or the other, you’ll be happy if you get this on the menu.