Last Friday evening, Matt and I attended a fundraising auction for my daughter's school. The theme was a country hoe-down. The theme was really raise as much money as possible, but the decorations and food need better direction than that. On top of the checked table cloths was quite a spread. Hummus, couscous, and fig & goat cheese sandwiches - because you know all the best cowboys come from the Middle East. Wine tasting, whiskey tasting, beer tasting - it is thirsty work spending money! It was really was a lovely evening.
I was doing so well until the passed hors doeuvre's came around. I skipped the turkey meatballs, said no to the chicken on a stick, even refused the tiny steak sandwiches. Then, then the man said those magic words, "Mini hot dog?" and held out a tray filled with small dough-wrapped bits of wonder. Pigs in a blanket! What kind of evil person says no to pigs in a blanket? They are pigs, wrapped in a tiny blanket, just for your dining pleasure! He even offered spicy brown mustard in which to dip these precious bites.
I will not say how many I ate, and whatever my husband says is not true (too low, I ate more when he wasn't looking.) It seems hot dogs are the meat I cannot live without. I'm not sure it is even meat. If you don't know what is in the meat dish, does it count as eating meat?
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