roadkill recipes
All us regulars down at the South End Diner were a little taken aback the other day to find a notice on the Special of the Day readerboard: NO Pink Slime in our Burgers, Not Now, Not NEVER!! I guess all the new coverage of offal mixed into whatever else the FDA deems safe for carnivores had finally hit a nerve in the nethermost regions of Rome. Or at least Sammy the Skillet’s nerves. He was slapping burgers around on the grill like he was looking for a domestic violence charge.
Most of us know when Sammy should be left alone, but Two Toke Tom might’ve been one toke over the line when he called out from his stool — “Hey, Sam, hold the slime, but go heavy on the antibiotics, will ya? I got a cold comin’ on….” Brenda, from the working side of the counter, whacked him sternly on the knuckles with a serving spoon, but it was too late, Sam was on his way, spatula dripping grease and growth hormones, and anybody near Two Toke moved perceptibly out of range of what looked to be certain meat-based mayhem. Even T.T. realized his mistake. Those dilated eyes of his widened to the width of twin coffee cup saucers as he threw up his hands defensively. “Sorry, man, sorry. Truly! Sammy, I mean it!!”
Sam glowered menacingly, but finally shook his head, wiped grease on his apron and went back to his grilling. Brenda rapped Two Toke once more for good measure and the rest of us all chuckled nervously and after a minute or three, the conversational pitch was almost back to normal, meaning caffeinated and lively. I did notice, though, that the burger orders were few and far between. BLT’s and frozen fish sandwiches were substituted instead. I had my usual cheeseburger — nobody’s gonna accuse ME of wussing out over food additives. After all, I’m a dyed pink in the wool South Ender. But … I really did want to ask Brenda, confidentially and out of everyone else’s hearing range, what do you suppose they really do to that Velveeta?
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