Many of the people who know me have heard me refer to “Letter night,” which happens every month or two and to which I always look forward. The premise is this: We cook our way through the alphabet. So for example, for the letter A, everyone brought a dish that began with the letter A. It was always a surprise to see what we ended up with and how different they could be. As I recall, I first joined this tradition around the letter “I”, and it took about another 5 years to make it through the rest of the alphabet.
I think we’ve all enjoyed these nights, and so when we got to Z, we decided to start again – with a twist. This time, the host (as determined by alphabetical order, of course), decides what ingredient we all work with, ala Iron Chef/Chopped. For A night, Amy decided on Artichokes. And this past weekend, Colleen decided on, of all things, Bologna.
That’s right. You heard me. Bologna. You have to understand. Before Saturday night, I had literally NEVER had a slice of bologna in my entire life. So when Colleen decided that “B” stood for “Bologna” I was struck by a wave of concern and an itty bit amount of disgust as I contemplated how my tummy and taste buds were going to react. I don’t even like Mortadella, for god’s sake. How on earth was I going to manage that much bologna? Not to mention that it would absolutely kill my Weight Watchers efforts.
If you want to see what dishes we made (from bologna cake to BBQ bologna to pickled bologna), you can check out our new blog, Alphabetize This. I’ll give you a sneak peek at my contribution here.
So, how do I feel about Bologna now? It’s better than I thought, but, well, let’s just say I’m not in a rush to go get some more bologna any time soon.