Coming Soon!

Mendacious D, knowing of my love for all things edible, referred me to this illustration. There's only one word to describe it - mouthwatering!

There's also only one word to describe the demand for the forthcoming NY Times bestseller, Snag's Cooking Now - extremely incredible! Many of you have seen previous selections from this soon-to-be-a-major-motion-picture-blockbuster masterpiece. Now, as a special bonus, Friends of Befouled are being offered a sneak peak at the marketing materials for the Book That Will Change Your Life™.

Noted chef de cuisine Snag draws from his vast repertoire of Google searches to create a spectacular coffee table book. This lavishly aromatic gift from heaven features recipes ranging from simple weeknight preparations like Buckthorn Surprise and Boiled Mackerel ala Duesenberg to elegant meals such as Glazed Potash and Truffled Platinum. Each recipe is accompanied with step-by-step illustrations demonstrating how to undertake even the most difficult kitchen task, be it filleting a charging rhino or cauterizing a sucking chest wound.

As a further bonus, Snag has included entries from celebrities around the world. Who knew that Kofi Annan is a fan of sauteed cheese or that Ani DiFranco loves baked egret? Apparently Snag did, for their recipes are lovingly reprinted here, complete with warning letters from various attorneys.

This is more than just a cookbook, though. Snag uses the world of food as a jumping off point for the larger issues that concern all of us. Whether discussing the relationship between pasta and Toronto's notorious mandatory abortion laws, the effect of global warming on ham, or the spork's impact on modern art, his insatiable curiosity delights and confounds the reader.

The majesty of this epic work goes beyond its contents. With his customary attention to detail, Snag has designed a book that is as beautiful to hold as it is to read. Printed on silk and bound in washable Gouda, it will occupy a cherished place on your mantel for generations to come. Act now and your three easy installments of $79.99 will also include a genuine pencil.

And this is a book with heart. One hundred sixteen percent of after-Snag proceeds will be donated to the Save Atlantis Foundation, a charity Snag created and runs for the purpose of preserving this fabled underwater kingdom for future generations. As Pope Benedict XVI would have said if asked, "Buy two copies unless you hate your children."

So call now! Desperate operators are standing by!!

Snaghouse Blues

Having been away for the entire first week of school, my Lovely Bride was understandably a bit overwhelmed with getting everyone back in their routines. This is only amplified by her own return to school, having found herself in the midst of a career change of her own. Understandable, but not without consequences, as evidenced by my return to a house that appeared to have been looted by rabid badgers during my absence. That, in turn, meant today was cleaning day.

Contrary to what my kids would tell you, I'm not obsessed about making sure the house is spotless. A good thing, because it's never even close. I do draw the line when my family starts considering paper plates an acceptable alternative to washing dishes, and that's pretty much where we were by Friday night.

This morning was out for cleaning, because the youngest had a soccer game, one I was coaching in my role as kind and beneficent father. Tomorrow is out, because the middle one has soccer tryouts and two games, to which I will be shuttling him in a reprise of that role. That left this afternoon.

Some children are born with a good-natured willingness to pitch in. Mine are not, something no doubt attributable to my parenting style, a combination of empty threats and bribery. Nevertheless, as I've explained to them repeatedly in the last month, we simply cannot keep the family afloat during the upcoming basketball season without their help.

My oldest, bless his crabby little heart, has already taken on a lot of the chores around the house. Not because he likes them, or even because he's necessarily supportive in the traditional sense, but more because he realizes his parents are such abject failures he's liable to catch a disease if he doesn't take matters into his own hands. Hence, he does his own laundry, vacuums, and even cleans the bathrooms with some regularity. But, again, with school and cross-country starting, he's stretched thin too.

Which brings us to the others. The middle child, while he takes some prodding, eventually gets into the groove. Today, for example, he folded and put away four baskets of laundry, exhibiting a marginally tolerable attitude most of the time.

The youngest, on the other hand, doesn't have a groove. Told first to help fold clothes, he complained so much his brother told him to go away. From there, he was assigned to picking up the dog food spilled in the storage room, a chore that stretched out from its expected five-minute completion to an hour-long nightmare replete with shrieking and gagging noises. Which promptly antagonized his brothers, which promptly led to a shouting match involving all of us, and the dog.

Which is why I've decided to put together a special playlist, something to put them in the right frame of mind. The soundtrack to the lives of my children.

1. Under My Thumb - Rolling Stones

2. That's When I Reach For My Revolver - Mission of Burma

3. Psycho Killer - Talking Heads

4. Stranglehold - Ted Nugent

5. Stuck in America - Sugarcult

6. Chain Gang - Sam Cooke

7. Take Your Medicine - Cloud Cult

8. Cruel to Be Kind - Nick Lowe

9. Nowhere to Run - Martha Reeves and the Vandellas

10. Whipping Post - Allman Brothers

Bonus track - Garland Jeffreys - Spanish Town
I'm gonna eat my rice and beans,
I'm gonna suck on a chili dog

Friendly Skys, My Ass

You know what my favorite airline food is?

I don't know, because there isn't any.

Bastards.

A Good Time Was Had By All

What a nice day in Washington. Breakfast with politicians, enough said there, and then, on Fish's recommendation, the afternoon at the Phillips Collection. Which was everything he said and more, with Hoppers, Picassos, Braques, and the crown jewel, Luncheon of the Boating Party, which is magnificent on the wall and will also be magnificent in magnet form on my refrigerator, joining such other luminary magnets as those from Yosemite, the Baseball Hall of Fame, and Tupelo, Mississippi, the birthplace of Elvis.

But who cares about all that? What people really want to know is what is a night like with Chuckles and Clif? Let me tell you, something else.

To begin with, I was initially taken aback by their resemblance to the Newman and Redford of the "Butch Cassidy" years. Even after chatting with them for a while, I found it hard to avoid thinking of Bolivia.

That eventually passed and so on AG's advice, we decided to have a nice meal on the FDA's tab. We started with an appetizer of emulsified pearls, followed by blackened coelacanth, unicorn flank sliced thinly against the grain, and a mousse prepared from Hemingway first editions. All washed down with Champagne made from grapes pressed by teen-aged Romanian figure skaters.

And a chili dog.
















It was good.

We did more than eat, of course. Many people don't realize that Chuckles is actually noted German director Werner Herzog and we spent a great deal of time discussing President Bush's well-known fondness for "Fitzcarraldo"and the impact this has on our country's relationship with a more democratic South America. Clif, however, ultimately took the position that Fassbinder's "Berlin Alexanderplatz" was the greater film and the argument soon spilled into the streets where hilarity ensued.

Somewhat surprisingly, I found the Washington jails much to my liking. My skills in origami impressed the other inmates and the three hours I spend there before being bailed out were some of the happiest of my life. I shall forever cherish these scars as memories of this special time.

But, alas, all good things must come to an end. Tomorrow I board my return flight home on Air Llama, leaving behind the glitz and glamour of the most famous American city built on a swamp. Someday I shall return, hoping only in the meantime for the opportunity to repay the kind hospitality of my new friends, Chuckles and Clif. Thanks guys.

Can You Feel The Love?

I survived a blessedly calm plane ride to the seat of our nation's government, enjoyed a nice meal at Central Michel Richard, and drank too much bourbon at a place called, coincidentally, Bourbon. Halfway through dinner, I sent a text message to my oldest son, asking after his first day of high school. Transcript follows.

Me: How was your day?

Him: Good.

Me: What r u doing?

Him: Mom and I r at grocery. Youngest son's at friend's. Middle son's still in room being punished. Mom says she's exhausted.

Me: Bummer.

Him: What r u doing?

Me: I'm eating caramel crème brulée prepared by guy who was named James Beard chef for 2007.

Him: Mom says F U.

Me: Give mom big hug for me.

Him: Bye.

Me: Bye.

Tomorrow: Adventures with Chuckles and Clif.

Back To School

School starts tomorrow and that means it's time to fill out the parent questionnaire for my youngest. The teachers don't bother to ask about the older ones anymore. Either they've given up or my family's reputation precedes them. In any event, my Lovely Bride, in a moment of incredibly poor judgment, asked me to take care of it. So, here we are.

1. What do you feel are your child's academic and social strengths?

N/A.

2. What special interests or abilities does your child have?

He's a gifted complainer and victim. His interests include being uncooperative and identifying my failings as a parent.

3. How would you describe your child's personality?

Irritating.

4. How does your child respond to directions from you?

With rage and contempt.

5. How does he/she respond when he/she is disappointed or angry?

He is always disappointed and angry.

6. How does your child handle responsibilities and/or chores?

He doesn't.

7. Have there been any major changes during the last year which might affect your child's school performance.

He had a new head plate installed and we've increased the amount of lead and mercury in his diet. In addition, his mother shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

8. What do you feel is the most important thing the school can do for your child?

Water and fertilize him.

9. Are you interested in volunteering in the classroom?

That's not really a question you want to ask our family.

10. Do you have any special interests/hobbies that you would like to share with our class?

I like to collect and paint roadkill when I am not practicing my exotic dancing. His mother is an avid drinker.

11. Is there any other information you wish to share with me to help me understand the best way to meet your child's needs?

A Taurus, he enjoys sunsets, long walks on the beach, and waffles. On weekends he likes to solder. He hopes to have his voting rights restored when he grows up.

Step Right Up!

As one of the few Snag family traditions not firmly entrenched outside the mainstream, we go to the State Fair most Augusts. When I say "we" I'm referring to the boys and me. The Lovely Bride tries to avoid this forced march, leaving to me the joys of three children wired on sugar, grease, and the peculiar attractions of the midway.

Like most Snag family traditions, this one typically involves bickering and demands that I spend money. I had no particular reason to think yesterday would be any exception.

We got to the fairgrounds mid-morning, made our entrance, and started shoving mini-donuts in our pieholes. Coincidentally, the Democratic party's booth was near the donut stand and when we stuck our head in to say what was what, we found to our delight (i.e. to my delight) a Senate candidate was about to speak. And what a populist stemwinder he gave.

"The Democratic party has become the liberal party and the conservative party," he said.

"There's nothing conservative about billions of dollars of deficits!"

The crowd cheered.

"There's nothing conservative about spying on American citizens!"

The crowd cheered louder.

"There's nothing conservative about torture!"

The crowd roared.

My kids, bored at first, started paying attention. They listened to the rest of the speech, applauded with the rest of us, then took an Obama '08 button to bring home as a gift to a neighbor.

From there we wandered off to more traditional activities. Foot-long hot dogs, turkey legs, deep-fried cheese curds, the swine and poultry barns, farm implement displays, games of "skill." Everything you could want.

Only one thing was different this year. The kids didn't complain. At least they didn't complain much by their standards.

Why? I don't know.

Maybe they're just getting older. That didn't make much difference this morning, though, when they were at each other's throats.

Maybe they were well-rested for a change. They were still up when I went to sleep the night before, so that's probably not it.

Or maybe they were just thinking about the speech, and how "some people can't pull themselves up by their bootstraps because they don't have any boots," and maybe for a change they appreciated, just a little, what they have.