Dinner outside tonight on the deck, ending with a Baked Alaska. Reilly flamed it with Cognac, cursing all the while as the tablecloth, briefly, caught on fire. He believes that his demi-century mother is irresponsible.....oops! Before we set fire to the 49th state, we had Baked Wyoming, in the form of moose, and Baked Alaska a la poisson aka king salmon. All this before the rain let loose,before thunder rumored the skies in the distance, and one flash of lightning illuminated our eighty-nine degree skies. Now my garden rejoices with the sprinkling of water, and my kitchen is stacked high with a 5-7-5 haiku pattern: balance.
What would a Baked Oregon taste like? A Baked Alabama? How about a Baked Utah?