Bringing The Heartland to GodZone. And Vice Versa.
I have been requested to cook something American. Not sure what to do, considering most things quintessentially American come from a can, bag, or jar (Rice-a-roni, Chef-Boy-R-Dee, Chicken Tonight) or are already ubiquitous the world over. You can be within spitting distance of Antarctica and still find yourself a nice bucket o' KFC.
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Yesterday I bought six bottles of wine in Wairarapa with the hopes I'd be able to smuggle them back into the US without a fuss. I managed to do it with three bottles of whisky from Scotland last year and I'm praying that the customs gods are still on my side. Maybe I am pressing my luck.
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Martha and I stalked Peter Jackson. Well, we drove past his house and managed to get a glimpse of some turrets, a railroad tunnel, a surveillance camera and some pretty impressive gates. Apparently he's got his own Neverland Ranch back there.
posted by Oy Vey at 11:23 PM
2 Comments:
It sounds like you are having a fabulous time! Also - it's really a shame you didn't plan for your American-cooking extravaganza, because you could have come armed with a box or two of Hamburger Helper!
I'm jealous -- I want to be there
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