Game Time!

So, to ring in the bowl season, we packed up the whole famn damily and headed to my parents' house to watch BYU destroy SDSU and make homemade peanut butter cups. (Thanks, Amy, Mom, and girls.)  Of course, the menu needed to include classic sports food: pizza and wings.  I'm not a wing snob, or a pizza snob, but I do enjoy the good stuff when I can get it.  And, yes, I do know the difference.  This particular fare rated fair on my scale.  Those that know me well, know that even though I love all foods, I could live off pizza for every meal eight days each week (as long as there's variety), i.e., trip to Philadelphia where all I ate for three days included pizza, stromboli (pizza's cousin), and cheese steaks.  But back to this pizza here and now.  It served its purpose and vanquished my hunger both last night and this morning.  The wings were Dad's responsibility, and I have no idea where he got them, although I believe they were pre-seasoned for our postseason match.  (Pun very much intended.)  He got honey barbecue and chile lime.  Not bad.  The burn is still smoldering somewhere in the recesses of my intestines.