"Sandwich" is a misnomer - it's just two chicken breasts with some cheese and bacon.  Most people would consider that an entree or two were it on a plate, but KFC calls it a "sandwich" and suddenly people are ecstatic or apoplectic.  I digress...

First, it's hefty.  You'd expect that from two chicken breasts with cheese and bacon, but really - this is 4 servings of chicken, 2 servings of bacon, 2 servings of cheese, plus whatever sauce they throw in there.  By my count, that's 930 calories and a whopping 3240 mg of sodium, while the RDA for calories and sodium is 2000 and 2400mg, respectively.  (The four servings of chicken come from the USDA definition of half a chicken breast as a serving.)  The sodium really comes through - I was having a bit of difficulty finishing the beast until I downed half my drink - and I didn't even touch the home fries that KFC gives you as part of the Double Down Meal.

The taste itself wasn't terrible, although the chicken was a bit overcooked.  You can't really taste the cheese or the bacon, but they do come through as texture when you bite into the "sandwich."  Mostly what you taste is salt, either in the breading or the sodium solution that they seemingly soak the chicken breasts in.  It definitely cured me of hunger but made me more thirsty than I can recall in recent memory - so going to the upsize or mega size or whatever it takes to get a large drink will definitely help you out if you'd like to try one yourself.

In the end, I don't think I'll get this ever again - it's just too damn salty.  KFC, for the love of god, try and bring the sodium down.  Use MSG if you have to.

• 1 stick unsalted butter, softened
• 2 cups brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg, fresh if possible
• Generous pinch ground cloves
• Pinch salt
• Dark rum
• Hot/boiling water

Directions:  Thoroughly combine all ingredients except for rum and water.  Cool in fridge or freezer until firm.  For each cup of hot buttered rum, scoop out two tablespoons of the mixture into a mug.  Cover with a shot (1.5 fl. oz.) or so of the rum, then fill mug the rest of the way with the hot/boiling water.  Stir and serve immediately.  Makes 12 one mug servings.

I made this last night for Bibber's annual Christmas Eve party and got requests for the recipe, so here it is.  You can add a bit more rum per mug, but going with 1.5 to 2 ounces of rum ensures that you taste more than just rum.  The water can be boiled or heated in the microwave - you just have to ensure that it's hot enough to melt the mixture and stay hot enough to be a hot drink.  We used Sailor Jerry rum last night, but you can use any dark rum you like, although I'd stay away from regular Captain Morgan.

Kendra, bless her heart, had a much harder time of it while in Boston than I did due to the severe jet lag from her thirteen-time-zone-hopping plane ride.  I actually got to witness firsthand some of the more interesting side effects of Ambien when she took one and stayed awake for a bit afterwards.  I was lucky enough that she only had to use it once and for the rest of the trip was pretty okay.  I also got the distinct pleasure of meeting her sister Kelly, who is more brash than her sibling, if that's at all possible.

Kendra and I

Our first night there we were treated to homemade enchildadas courtesy of Kelly, followed the next day by a Sox game.  I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, actually - we headed to Kendra's grandmother's house for a bit more meet 'n greet along with some cheese and crackers when everyone got a bit peckish.  A few miles and wrong turns down the road and we were at Alewife station on the Red Line, headed into Boston for my first Red Sox game!  Kendra made sure to point out all the important landmarks, such as the large Citgo sign, Yawkey Way, etc. while ensuring that I looked like a complete tourist by getting pictures of us under or near everything.  Of course, they're awesome pictures.  The game itself wasn't too shabby either; our seats were awesome, the food was pretty tasty for ballpark fare and we were treated to one hell of a heckler that did a bang-up job of calling anyone and everyone out on any embarrassing things that might have escaped their notice.

A shot from our seats at Fenway

Kelly's, ahem, clavicle also got an up-close-and-personal encounter with one of the scraggliest beards I've ever seen - but alas, no pictures.  The Sox did their best but came up just short of a rally in the 9th, at which point we schlepped on out of the park and towards the Green Line and home.

The next day was a scheduled trip to the Nashoba Valley Winery for some apple picking and some unscheduled wine tasting.  I was surprised to learn that the entire area is rife with orchards - I counted four signs at the off-ramp to the interstate alone.  I assumed that there would be multiple varieties of apples available to pick at the orchard, but guessed a bit low; Kendra's mother asked us how many kinds of apples they had at the Winery and I guessed twelve while Kendra guessed 102.  They have 104, so yeah, I lowballed it a bit.

Contemplating peaches

Being a bit of a Georgia boy, I was also pleased to find that they had peaches ripe for the picking just a couple rows from some apple trees. Shortly after the start of our picking adventure Kendra's grandmother and grandfather arrived to pick with us, and I have to tell you - her grandfather is something else.  Think the "shitmydadsays" guy, but with less profanity and more balls.  To wit:  there are signs everywhere on the property about how it's illegal to pick using anything but a bag purchased from the winery (stealing, basically.)  Naturally, Kendra's granddad grabbed a plastic grocery bag and immediately set out for the fruit trees, ignoring our protestations with repeated remarks of "What're they gonna do to me?"  Someone eventually convinced him that two apple bags and a peach bag would produce more than enough fruit than all of us could reasonably eat or use before it all went bad, and he somewhat sullenly put the bag away and walked with the rest of us through the lines of trees.

Illicit Apples

Wine tasting

Shortly afterwards we had filled all the bags with some delicious, and in some cases, illicit, apples and peaches and bid Grandma and Grandpa farewell as they were headed back to their house to, um.  I think they had a meeting or something... anyway!  We put the apples into the cars and then headed into the restaurant/retail area, which was conveniently located three feet from the wine tasting area.  After perusing the shelves for a bit, we all bellied up with our tickets and sampled some rather delicious wine.  I especially enjoyed the plum wine and the mead, while Kendra, Kelly and their mom all loved the ice wine that I introduced to them.  Everyone ended up getting a bottle of the ice wine, while Kendra and Kelly both got a bottle of the plum, and I got a bottle of peach brandy for my mom and a bottle of their Renaissance offering, a dry red with a hint of a spicy finish.

That was mostly it for Massachusetts - we all got an early dinner at an Italian place and then Kendra and I headed to Logan for our flight to Norfolk to attend the Helicopter Ball. More on that in part 2.

This Saturday my buddy I accompanied my buddy Landon, his wife Kim and another married couple from work to Town Point Club for an evening that would be different from our standard fare of restaurants and then the local bars. It was an awesome four course meal that was AWESOME, along with the best service I’ve had in a long, long time. I’d been looking to getting into the club ever since Landon told me about their special intiation fees, which are MUCH reduced from the standard ones. There’s also the fact that once you’re intiated, you can transfer your membership to any other club that has an agreement with ClubCorp, of which there are many all across the US.

On the downside, it’s $35/month just to be a member and it’s tough to go there and spend less than $100/person, although that does include drinks, so... I dunno. It’s a great place and the members as well as the staff were very gracious, especially so after they heard I was considering joining. Plus it’s nice to not have to ever think about tipping or even paying at the time - it all comes at the end of the month. And everyone knew Landon by name!

So we’ll see.  Leaning towards going for it, though.

And indeed I did, for about 3 weeks earlier an older woman had sat down next to me at the bar and noticed that I was reading a magazine she was interested in... Dwell, I think it was.  At any rate, we get to talking, and the booze gets to kicking in, and I can be a fucking *charmer* when I've had a few in me.  Doesn't matter who I'm talking to, I just love the attention.  What can I say?

Anyway, she keeps telling Steve The Bartender "oh, just one more" over and over again, to the tune of about 5 extra drinks.  I keep steady on my Manhattans with Old Overholt and eventually it comes out that this woman is a lesbian.  I had an inkling about such a thing, but you never know - some women are just mannish.  At any rate, shortly after confessing her lesbianism, she tells me that she's not totally lesbian - hell, she even had a kid!  (now grown, etc.)

At this point alarm bells are going off and my lizard brain is telling me "DANGER, DANGER, OLD LESBIAN WANTS TO SLEEP WITH YOU," but eh, fuck it.  I order another drink and continue talking.  Well I'll be damned if this chick doesn't proposition me within 3 minutes of her lesbian confession.  The lizard brain finally kicks into gear and I drag out the old standby: "whoa, it's getting late, better get home, I've got a lot to do tomorrow, yadda yadda."  Old Not-Lesbian is really drunk by this point and, of course, asks if I would like a ride home.  "No thanks, I rode my bike to the bar" came my reply.  (True story, not a lie, but I could have walked home either way.)    She retorts with "well, can you walk me to my car?"  ARGH!  Being a gentleman!  My only weakness.  So I take her to her car and she drunkenly assaults me with her mouth and tongue - PLARF.  I gently but forcefully put her in the car and head to my house.  All done.

Or so I thought.

Flash forward to Thursday and boom - there she is.  Playing the same schtick, the same lines, except for an excuse about how she "normally doesn't drink that much" and "didn't have anything to eat that night" and oh, did I mention the new, super-butch haircut?  Urf.  I decide to see if she'll be cooler and less weird this time around.  She proceeds to spill my drink all over me and then shatter the glass on the floor in the cleanup process.  At this time I decide it's about time to cut my losses and leave, just as she heads to the bathroom.  I close my tab, slink out of the bar and sure as shit, here comes Not-Really-Lesbian, fucking running after me, plying me with food, drinks, whatever to get me to stay.

Fuck a bunch of that - I beat feet back home, much the wiser and more wary of my local establishments.  Man, I hope I don't have to switch regular bars.

One thing that did catch my eye was their gazpacho offering.  Rather than a creamy consistency, the chefs went for a chunkier style with bits of cooked cornmeal and leaves of fresh basil that gave the soup a nice three-part contrast in mouthfeel.  The temperature was perfect for a post-workout starter - chilled, but not so cold as to make my teeth hurt or the bowl sweat.

On the hot side of things there were numerous changes and additions, but I was in the mood for something a bit more on the "comfort food" side of things and so ordered the "fondue" and bread.  Crackers rotates a few of their concoctions daily, to include butter, "fondue" and, new for summer, catsup nee ketchup.  The fondue - actually just hot/warm cheese that you dip your sliced and toasted bread it - was a goat cheese, chardonnay and blackberry mix that was tart with a hint of a sweet finish.

The beer that accompanied both of these dishes was Nectar Brews' Red Nectar offering.  This beer replaced Dogfish Head's 60 Minute IPA in Crackers' draught lineup and is a worthy successor to the Delaware brewery's flagship beer, giving a bit less intense flavor but still maintaining the refreshing qualities that make the 60 Minute a favorite.

Crackers does tapas pretty well and I admire their willingness to experiment with new dishes, but this one just didn't seem to have much going for it other than an interesting combination of ingredients.   Perhaps it would have been a bit more interesting had my palate not been overwhelmed, but in general the different parts of the salad never seemed to make a cohesive whole and ended up being a nicely arranged assortment of ingredients.  Be it planning or execution, chalk it up to a lesson learned.