Sometimes, I catch myself and I have to laugh.
In the heart-pounding excitement of the last 18.9 seconds, broken tortilla chips fly off my lap as I jump up from my seat on the middle cushion of the couch, one hand midair holding a half-eaten burger that’s dripping ketchup onto the rug, the other hand with a death grip on the neck of a Miller Lite. I’m crouching like a tigress in confident anticipation as I watch my husband gracefully loft the ball in a perfectly smooth 35 degree arc that spirals, lilts, sails, and... as the rest of the room erupts into shouts of victory and high-fives all around, I set down what's left of the burger next to pile of Buffalo wing bones and take a look at myself. *giggle* What am I doing? Where on earth did this come from? How did I become...Mrs. Manning one week, Mrs. Favre the next?!?!
Absolutely ridiculously absurd.
And why am I drinking Miller Lite?
The Miller Lite question likely deserves a few separate hours of self-reflection. However, I’m not quite sure how a Hello Kitty of a Korean girl became such a football fanatic. Perhaps it makes sense – I grew up in the Midwest where football is, unlike here in LA, almost a way of life. As soon as you start to sense the first faint fragrance of leaves burning, as soon as the leaves begin their slow but certain transformation from sunny summer green to gentle mellow yellow, it’s football season. High school – a full rainbow of every color that Dodge Caravan comes in trucking out to local high schools on Friday night after the last bell. College – all-day tailgating on Saturday. Pro – hurriedly shaking hands with the Pastor after church before rushing home on Sundays to turn on the TV.
We have no real seasons in LA – spring, springer, and springest – but in Michigan and Ohio, we have winter, spring, summer, and football, and no matter how much you try to hide with your kimchee, you’re eventually going to make your way to a tailgate with a Tupperware full of gim-bahp. Football.
But I think, truth be told, there’s something else besides just growing up with football season year after year that’s done this to me.
It started with a little crush that hit me my freshman year in high school in Cincinnati. He was a year older than me, but as a sophomore, he was the all-star, all-state starting quarterback for our football team. He was 6’4”, athletically lanky as a quarterback should be, wavy blonde hair, and crystal clear Caribbean blue eyes that sparkled whenever he answered back to our Spanish teacher, “Sí, Señora.”
His name was Jayson. Pause to *sigh*....Jayson, with a “y” because, well, why not? Since I was a veritable Spanish language genius, I was in the class one year ahead of me. Through the miracle of alphabetical seating by last names, I sat next to him. Jayson couldn’t conjugate a simple verb to save his life and his pronunciation was worse than Juan Carlos’ deaf mute donkey. In my ears, though, he was speaking the language of love, and when he asked me to tutor him through Gabriel Garcia Marquez, I answered, shyly peering at him through an imaginary white veil, “I do.” I had an absolutely ridiculously miserably pathetic puppy love infatuation with #10 starting QB Jayson.
Sack the quarterback? Absolutely. ;)
So perhaps a silly schoolgirl crush on a quarterback turned itself into a wanton lustful passion for football. Am I really watching the game...or am I just dreamily watching Jayson again? Hmmmm...
Oh, the silly ways that boys affect girls. Oh the silly things boys will do for football. Put them together, and what do you get? Sarah baking very American peanut butter cupcakes with chocolate satin frosting for the Super Bowl and washing it down with Miller Lite, even though I don’t love peanut butter, and come to think of it, I don’t love beer even more. LOL!
Peanut Butter Cupcakes Recipe with Chocolate Frosting
Preheat oven to 350.
Sift together 1¼ c. all purpose flour with 1½ tsp. baking powder and ½ tsp. salt in a medium bowl and set aside. Stir in 1 c. sugar.
Heat ¾ c. whole milk over low heat (or use a microwave), but do not boil. Add ½ c. creamy peanut butter, 2 Tbsp. butter and stir to melt in the peanut butter. Remove from heat and add 1 tsp. vanilla.
When the milk mixture has cooled, stir in one large egg. Pour the entire mixture into the bowl with the flour, and stir until well-combined.
Fill cupcake liners and bake for 25 minutes.
Cool completely and frost with chocolate frosting and top with chocolate footballs.
tags :: food : and drink : american : cooking : baking : recipes : los angeles
Grace says
Whatever happened with Jayson? Do tell! *Gush* ;)
sarah says
well, jayson had a girlfriend of many years already - her name might have been amanda or mandy or something. we get "alumni news" every year and i think they are married, and have like 19 kids or something like that. LOL!
sarah says
well, jayson had a girlfriend of many years already - her name might have been amanda or mandy or something. we get "alumni news" every year and i think they are married, and have like 19 kids or something like that. LOL!
Grace says
Boo. At least you have delicious looking football adorned cupcakes. One of these days when I get an oven I'm going to have to have a gigantic "Anti-Baking" day and replicate all these goodies.
Kat says
Love the story! Drool for the cupcakes!
Maure says
Like Proust's madeline, cupcakes
take you back to the lost time of Jayson - 739 espressos at the northside Peet's are an indelible reminder of a certain dark-haired beauty who I could never speak to.
And I'm left with only the jangled nerves.
hermz says
I'll have to show you some of my high school football pics. You'll laugh.
JJ says
Who else thinks that sport has gone too far? I mean there is so much money involved in sport now that there is very little sport left anymore. Sport spread betting used to be frowned upon when I was a kid as it made people desperate for money to bet with but now it’s nothing compared to how disgraceful a footballer’s salary is! These people train a few times a week and play one game a week if they’re lucky and get paid a week more than I earn a year! And yet no authority has ever questioned it! Why!? There’s a minimum wage, why can’t there be a maximum wage as well based on the type of job? So all you betters out there, why don’t you start spread betting on how much players are going to be paid next instead of what used to be sport?