Every time I watch a special on the Food Network about barbeque competitions I find myself wishin' on a star that someday I will get to go to one of said competitions and eat myself sick.
But hittin' up Bubba's Barbeque here in town is a close second to that far-off dream.
Last Saturday we went with some friends and had a good ol' time (I'm sorry, but writing about bbq and keepin' the G's and D's on the ends of my words is surprisingly quite difficult).
When our friend mentioned that he had eaten at a Bubba's in Jackson Hole, WY a while back, I was super disappointed. We have been to the IF Bubba's many times and I had really hoped that it was a one-of-a-kind kind of place. You know, Portland Style. But then he laughed and supposed that there are probably hundreds of locally-owned joints named Bubba's BBQ because, really, what else is the name Bubba good for but naming big, beautiful bbq restaurants? Turns out the Jackson Bubba's was nothing like ours.
It's way nicer.
But whatever. Jackson Hole is snooty. Too snooty for a town that sounds like a 6th grade boy named it after being mooned by his best friend.
Anyway, after eating at Bubba's this time around I must admit that smoked brisket, baked beans, broccoli salad and warm chocolate buttermilk pie with a scoop of Reed's Dairy vanilla ice cream on top is now in the running for my last meal.
Do you know what you would eat for your last meal?
It may seem like a morbid question, but I think about it. A lot. Growing up my family would say that they "Died and went to heaven" whenever anything delicious was around (usually involving copious amounts of chocolate/peanut butter/ice cream/all three). But even now whenever I encounter something that makes me feel like Carter looks in this picture, I think, "Wow. This is Last Supper Quality."
LSQ.
I think I'm on to something, here.
I just decided that I am going to make LSQ bumper stickers and bracelets.
WWLSQD?
And I will hand them out to people/restaurants/myself whenever I encounter something that is truly, well, LSQ.
What's LSQ to you?
But hittin' up Bubba's Barbeque here in town is a close second to that far-off dream.
Last Saturday we went with some friends and had a good ol' time (I'm sorry, but writing about bbq and keepin' the G's and D's on the ends of my words is surprisingly quite difficult).
When our friend mentioned that he had eaten at a Bubba's in Jackson Hole, WY a while back, I was super disappointed. We have been to the IF Bubba's many times and I had really hoped that it was a one-of-a-kind kind of place. You know, Portland Style. But then he laughed and supposed that there are probably hundreds of locally-owned joints named Bubba's BBQ because, really, what else is the name Bubba good for but naming big, beautiful bbq restaurants? Turns out the Jackson Bubba's was nothing like ours.
It's way nicer.
But whatever. Jackson Hole is snooty. Too snooty for a town that sounds like a 6th grade boy named it after being mooned by his best friend.
Anyway, after eating at Bubba's this time around I must admit that smoked brisket, baked beans, broccoli salad and warm chocolate buttermilk pie with a scoop of Reed's Dairy vanilla ice cream on top is now in the running for my last meal.
Do you know what you would eat for your last meal?
It may seem like a morbid question, but I think about it. A lot. Growing up my family would say that they "Died and went to heaven" whenever anything delicious was around (usually involving copious amounts of chocolate/peanut butter/ice cream/all three). But even now whenever I encounter something that makes me feel like Carter looks in this picture, I think, "Wow. This is Last Supper Quality."
LSQ.
I think I'm on to something, here.
I just decided that I am going to make LSQ bumper stickers and bracelets.
WWLSQD?
And I will hand them out to people/restaurants/myself whenever I encounter something that is truly, well, LSQ.
What's LSQ to you?
2 comments:
Call me ghetto but I'm a sucker for a Big Judd, tots, and a chocolate shake. Can't get much better. Mmmmmm.
The bigger question is what should the first song that baby hears coming into this world be? Only you would be someone else who might think about that. I'm thinking a little Hey Jude. Or maybe labor will be traumatic enough he will need Yesterday. ;-)
YES! I love it!! Okay, baby's first song... Hey Jude is a classic for sure. A little "Nah nah nah"s never hurt anyone, especially after something as wonderful (i.e. traumatic) as birth. Yesterday, too. I def think Paul is the man for the job. I might even go a little Here Comes the Sun or Two of Us, but I'm strange like that. I like the harmony ones, apparently. All of these songs were on Avery's first mix, I think, btw. But my favorite for her was And I Love Her.
I'm guessing Albuquerque is out of the question?
PS I am so stinking excited for you!!! Wish I could see you. I just might have to head to that end of Idaho and check out baby Hartley soon. I miss you.
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