Pigs is Pigs

Over the weekend I went to a shindig crawling with young socialite scenesters. Personally, I was more excited the time I spotted the silver-haired Roy Blount, Jr. at a Paolo Conte concert. And even more excited to find this soiree was catered by Daisy May’s BBQ. Forget Stella Keitel, Adam Levine, and Olivia Palermo (not pictured above). Let’s talk pulled pork.

The sandwich was tender and tasty, but a bit too dry for this juicy girl. I’d like to give it another go when I’ve got more throwdown room and easier access to cole slaw and squirt bottles. Pleasantly surprised by the sesame roll they used, though. Had a buttery, pastry-like mouthfeel. I’m not sure I’ve ever known a barbecue place to pay much attention to their buns. On my way to ask Ivanka Trump if she’s got Andy Dick in her five, I caught myself cooing over the heavy hunk of cornbread on someone else’s plate, and though I faux-protested, the plateholder insisted I take it. After I devoured with relish the dense, peppery bar, I asked the cornbread lady why she hadn’t wanted it. “It’s not that I didn’t want it,” said the young woman whose name I didn’t catch. “It just looked like you wanted it more.”

Mmmkay, so I’m a food brat, even at fancy parties. I’m woefully unimpressed by celebrity spawn, and I go all Billy Jack when I can’t get at the buffet table. Or the bar. But odds are she, though generous of cornbread, is stingy with the calories, and has since thanked me for eating several hundred of hers.

Sunday was cold and rainy, and I woke up with a bed attitude. So I laid around in my socks and undiepants, eating pepitas and watching (the ganj-enhanced) Planet Earth on Discovery Channel. Did you know the dwells-in-the-dark vampire squid produces flashes of disorienting light to confuse its predators and prey into thinking it’s something it’s not? Just like celebrities!

I didn’t give a second thought to them calories. Would sure love to have another hunk of that cornbread, though.