The frig stands alone.

I’m glad people dig the Frig? – by the way, congrats Fuzzy and Vanessa, for correctly IDing the butter – but I’m on freaking vacation.  Posting is one thing, it’s fun and relaxing, but worrying about the daily Frig? is cramping my style, which is pretty cramped as it is.  So it’s going to a 1-2x a week thing until such time as I’m (1) back and (2) in possession of a better theme for added features like this, because I’m kinda hating how the Frig? is taking over the home page like a creeping fungus to the detriment of regular posts. Go me and my foresight!

I wouldn’t leave you totally hanging, though.

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The Dodge & Graham Horse and Pony Jamboree: Part 2


Here’s a man who really knows how to massage his meat.

A barbecue in North Carolina isn’t really a barbecue unless some part of a pig is being cooked, and the Horse and Pony Jamboree did not disappoint.  Dodge (actual first name), the better other half of the HPJ, created an intensely flavorful pork shoulder, jazzing up a traditional Carolina vinegar-based marinade and mop with fresh and dried anaheim and poblano chiles.  He’d also planned some spicy pan-fried black bean cakes and some kind of amuse bouche that involved lemongrass-flavored shrimp wrapped in dough and fried.  I was skeptical, but as I generally approve of food on sticks, particularly when fried, I kept an open mind.

Unfortunately, he failed to actually cook the pork shoulder, and had to be bailed out by some non-Southern, non-professional chefs.  Also the beans were abandoned by the side of the road halfway through.  And the shrimp…well, you’ll see.  But hey, A for effort!

Gather ’round, children, while I spin a cautionary tale of culinary hubris.

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The Dodge & Graham Horse and Pony Jamboree: Part 1


I need something wide and shallow.

Here’s the exciting thing about this post: you’ll get to feel like you’re PART OF THE ACTION.  No, I haven’t invented smell-o-blogging or taste-o-blogging, but after spending almost 10 hours with Graham and Dodge, 2 chefs from the chi-chi Sanderling resort here on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, I think I can help you re-create the experience I had chronicling them.

Here’s how you do it: Buy a case of Miller Lite.  Drink half of it, to get a good slosh on.  After every photo caption in this post, yell drunkenly, “LIKE YOUR MOTHER!” and drink another beer.*

Also, make delicious, spicy honey-glazed grilled shrimp.

*As often as possible, there things that were actually said.

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