Girl, listen. Work has been getting in the way of enjoying Tulane baseball season and tailgating in the beautiful sunshine in March. But not too much you know. I got my priorities.
The Houston Cooters came into town last weekend. and stank. up. the. place. They can never be classy. An old idiot sitting in the handicap seating above 103 started desecrating the “Hullabaloo.”
We almost tossed him out.
Anyways, the morning of the Sunday game we joined the Ray Hester chapter to tailgate. Master Chef Ed grilled up my BYO-turkey burgers (made with the “no mess up” recipe). Delish, thank you Ed! Mr. Hullabaloo had his requisite hot dogs. and Mr. and Mrs. Hullabaloo brought all the trimmings for some fine bloody marys to share: our adorable “Hullabaloo!” throw cups, celery sticks, queen olives, Zing Zang mix, Three Olives vodka (essential) and Mr. Hullabaloo’s favorite: The Snap Beans. yummmmmm.
Of course we forgot the pickled asparagus, but we soldiered on.
Mrs. Hullabaloo also whipped up her tried, but true, corn salad from Williams-Sonoma’s fabulous, must have book: Backyard Barbecues.
Mrs. Hullabaloo has been making this corn salad for years to resounding reviews and a smattering of applause. Priscilla and Peggy requested it be posted, so I have obliged:
Williams-Sonoma Southfork Salad
(don’t quite remember why it’s from Southfork)
can of sweet corn (whole kernels)
one green bell pepper chopped into bits
one SMALL red onion chopped into bits
dozen chopped cherry or plum tomatoes (or one big beefsteak)
one minced up green jalapeno (DISCARD THE SEEDS OR YOU WILL WANT TO DIE)
one large rib of celery chopped into bits
handful FRESH chopped cilantro
handful FRESH chopped parsley
whomp of mayonnaise
few splashes from a can of chicken broth
few splashes red wine vinegar
salt and pepper to taste
and then place into adorable serving bowl – I used a plastic baseball bowl from Party City that is fabulous.
I also leave the salad sitting out of the fridge for a bit (while I’m packing up for tailgating) and then put into the cooler. Refrigerating it right away stops the flavors from getting mingled together properly.
So after the series with Houston is where the Drama Begins.
Mr. Hullabaloo was unavoidably detained from attending the Tulane Golf Classic due to business. Mrs. Hullabaloo had volunteered (a moment of weakness) to help serve Jambalaya to be lovingly prepared by Mr. Scott of the Ray Hester Chapter fame.
How boring to be alone.
So I called in the girls for reinforcement. Peggy, the one and only Patti Terranova (she of “Fourth and New Orleans fame”) and then the very lovely Terry from baseball.
We had a lovely day being silly and laughing like girls tend to do when grouped together.
See. Here’s a picture of Peggy licking the Jambalaya paddle.
To properly prepare for an appearance amongst English Turn's finest, I had stumbled into K-Mart of all places Sunday evening and hit the jackpot. Cute top, cute flip flops and fashionable carry-all bag:
Adorable.
Well, then Mr. Scott presented us with THE APRONS.
These are not just ordinary, won’t-be-caught-dead-in-that!-aprons. These were glorious dark evergreen aprons with a stunning embroidered crested T logo.
The very instant this apron is placed over your shoulders one is transformed from ho-hum into Fabulous. The powers of this apron transcends gender and race. Mystic these aprons are.
And we were NOT giving them back.
So Terry, Peggy and I frolicked around all afternoon, complimenting each other on our aprons (You look fabulous! No. YOU look fabulous! OK, we both look fabulous!). We used the English Turn Green as our catwalk.
We did pause to take photos of NFL superstar Matt Forte.
See, this is me trying to casually hide behind Peggy to take a photo after he left our station. All I got was Peggy's ear and then all background.
When he had arrived moments before this "candid shot" was taken, we all hugged him and peppered him with questions about this and that. So we chickened out on taking a photo in front of him because we didn’t want to look like complete stallker/groupies. It somehow would look better for us to act like fools while he's trying to play golf.
Luckily Patty has known Matt since he was in diapers so when he passed by later, we promptly tossed our phone cameras at her and dispatched her to take his photo so we didn’t look like complete fools. I won’t mention that I missed Mewelde Moore, superbowl champion, when I had to run an errand. I have put that disappointment out of my mind.
So at the end of the day, Mr. Scott and his wife start asking for the aprons. I had told Mr. Scott earlier in the day that the apron would have to be pried from my dead and lifeless body. I had even offered to PAY for the apron, but Mr. Scott said “No.”
There was just one acceptable solution: Liberate the Aprons.
When they started asking for the aprons, Peggy and I did what we had to do. We tossed them in the back of my trunk (yes, Mrs. Hullabaloo drove her car out to our station using the golf trail) and pretended not to hear her.
Mrs. Scott became more persistent! I got into my car. Terry had stashed her apron in her bag in the backseat, but had gone to powder her nose in the ladies room.
Peggy wandered over to help putting away everything. Then she was acting silly by doing mime instructions on how to manuever the car in the tight golf trail. She was dancing all around and frolicking. All the while Mrs. Scott would not cease from pestering about The Aprons.
I kept motioning to Peggy to Get. In. The. Car. Finally through gritted teeth: I yelled GET IN THE CAR!
We squeeled off.
Peggy starts screaming that we left behind Patti and Terry. Patti can get a ride with Mr. and Mrs. Scott! We needed to just save ourselves and leave them behind!
We were laughing so hard I about pee’d my pants. Meanwhile Terry heard the car squeel away so mid-nose powdering she busts out of the ladies room and takes off running behind the car. Patti calls us and yells at us to stop because poor Terry is running behind us. What. A. Hoot!
We spent the post-golf reception ducking and hiding from Mr. and Mrs. Scott behind plants and under the tables and such. Of course I called Patti and explained our bizarre behavior.
So then for the Tulane-LSU baseball game and - in rare form - Mr. and Mrs. Hullabaloo arrive completely empty handed.
Our poor refrigerator has nothing. That seems to happen when one does not grocery shop in a timely manner. We did not want to miss a second of the afternoon's festivities. So we grabbed two koozies and decided to see what the evening would have in store for us.
Luckily our wonderful friends, the Brothers B, had a delightful set up. Real rocks glasses, an impressive array of spirits, lick your fingers blackened ribeye and barbecue shrimp.
Quick thinking I remembered The Aprons and that it would be an acceptable offering to our hosts. Being that we were empty handed and showered with such generosity. I LENT the Brothers B the stolen aprons. Big Mistake.
Because they weren’t giving them back.
Ha ha! ROLL WAVE!!
The Brother's B “Lick Your Fingers Ribeye”
meat of your choice cut into bite size pieces
2 sticks butter per pound
generous handful of Prudhommes blackened seasoning
a ziplock bag
marinate overnight
at tailgating heat up a cured cast iron skillet glowing red. Add your meat, toss about, have a few sips of your drink, toss about some more and then serve.
Barbecue Shrimp
Hi-Do bakery french bread (they're on Terry Parkway)
pound Large heads-on shrimp or small prawns (we like the Westwego market)
stick of butter (American Beauty)
chicken broth cube or packet
packet italian dressing
smidge chopped fresh parsley
tons chopped thyme
massive scoop of Cajun seasoning (we use a secret blend from a friend)
generous shakes of cracked black pepper
generous splashes of white wine
dashes of water
Toss everything (except the bread and shrimps) together into a long deep pot or roasting pan. Adjust ingredients (add more of this/more of that) until you are happy with the flavorings. Maybe add some plain cayenne and some paprika if you want. Once the sauce is to your liking, add in your shrimps and simmer until they are cooked. Put some on a plate with some scoops of the sauce, break off pieces of the Hi-Do bread and make a mess!
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