Although I probably watch entirely too much television, I don't really have any shows that I Absolutely Cannot Miss. (My fingers are crossed behind my back right now, because I sort of can't miss Days of Our Lives or The Secret Life of the American Teenager. I justify my viewing of these shows in the following manner: In my mind, the average age of a Days of Our Lives fan is 60. Secret Life fan? 20. At (nearly) 40, I am The MEAN!
When I'm sitting on the couch knitting, I tend to hop through channels. More often than not, I end up on Food Network because I find that the Food Network hosts are (mostly) people I could see myself cavorting with in real life. (In a parallel universe, I am decorating cakes with Chef Duff Goldman right now. It's an enormous cake that looks exactly like a bathtub filled with scrambled eggs, and Chef Duff is very impressed with the fluffy perfection of my marzipan eggs. Okay. Back to this universe.) Anyway. The show that consistently captures my attention is Throwdown! with Bobby Flay.
Please know that I've never caught an entire episode of Throwdown! with Bobby Flay. With that said, here's how I think it goes down: Someone considers herself to be sort of an expert on a particular food item. This person looks into the camera and goes on and on about how her blueberry pancakes are "The Greatest Blueberry Pancakes EVER, Bobby Flay, because here in South Dakota, we know our Blueberry Pancakes!" And then Bobby Flay, looking all fetching as he struts down the streets of South Dakota in his Ray-Bans, says "Hey! You think your blueberry pancakes can beat MY BLUEBERRY PANCAKES?! I'll kick your pancakey butt right into Shrove Tuesday, Cha Cha!" He then busts into the house and embarrasses the self-proclaimed Blueberry Pancake Queen in front of her friends and family by making blueberry pancakes that put an end to every other blueberry pancake — all with one hand tied behind his back and absolutely no sweat to be seen.
At the end of the show, the townspeople vote, and more often than not, Bobby Flay is the Throwdown! Winner. And it really should make me feel a bit sad for the humiliated loser (who, in my mind, is eventually chased out of town), and sometimes it DOES, but more often than not, I simply cannot stop thinking that I wish Bobby had performed the entire Throwdown! without his shirt on.
Before I go any further, let me just say this: If a man would bounce on over to Fluid Pudding and say something about wishing Rachael Ray would do HER show without a shirt on, it would offend me. More than a little, even. And that, my friends, makes me a Hypocrite — a hypocrite who wants Bobby Flay to come over to my house and Throwdown! without his shirt on.
So. With that out of the way, it appears that I need to quickly become a locally-known expert on a particular food item.
After thinking about this for nearly ten minutes, I have chosen the Sweet Potato for two obvious reasons: 1. I bake a sweet potato almost every day for lunch. (With that said, I am not an expert on the baked sweet potato. Sometimes they're not quite done. Sometimes they're entirely TOO done. I do not discriminate. All are eaten — some just evoke more fond memories than others.) 2. Potatoes have skins, which opens up that whole Shirt vs. Skin thing, in which I would be Shirt. (And, most likely, Shirt with Swingy Cardigan.)
This is not going to be an easy task, which is exactly why I am here to ask for your help.
What can I do with a sweet potato that would stir Bobby Flay into a St. Louis Fluid Pudding Sweet Potato Shirtless Throwdown! (SLFPSPST)?
Quick! I need your sweet potato ideas!
(Confession: As much as I would dig seeing Mr. Flay without his shirt on, I really wrote this entire entry because I am looking for sweet potato recipes. I tend to dance around for seven hundred words or more before getting down to business.)
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