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February 5, 2012

Jamie Jones: Super Bowl, super eating

Dalton Daily Citizen





Lay off the smothered, covered, chunked, chopped, diced, peppered, capped, topped and country. Just have those Waffle House hash browns scattered on the grill. Wash them down with a glass of water.

After church at lunch, stick to the salad bar at Western Sizzlin’. Resist the temptation to dirty up three plates at the Chinese buffet. Ignore those gooey, buttery rolls staring at you seductively before the meal.

Stay away — actually run away — from the banana pudding.

Today is Super Bowl Sunday, when Americans will consume more food than any other day of the year not named Thanksgiving. You’re in for a marathon day of eating.

Let the gluttony begin.

The average Super Bowl party attendee will polish off 1,200 calories and 50 grams of fat just from snacking alone, according to The Calorie Control Council, a niche nonprofit organization representing the low-calorie food and beverage industry.

On top of that, throw in the actual meal. Add the desserts. Don’t forget the beverages.

You better wear sweatpants to the party.

Food served at Super Bowl parties across the country has become almost as big as the big game itself. The National Retail Federation predicts the average football fan will spend $63.87 on “related merchandise, apparel and snacks,” with food and beverage making up about 71 percent of that figure.

As a kid, I don’t recall food being such a fanatical part of the Super Bowl. Yes, we ate food to sustain ourselves, but the menu was much more reserved. We’d share a bag of microwave popcorn during the first half, someone’s mom would throw a frozen pizza in the oven around halftime and dessert in the fourth quarter was a bag of cookies.

Even in college our Super Bowl celebrations were low key.

When the Atlanta Falcons made it to Super Bowl XXXIII (why does the NFL still insist on using Roman numerals?) during the 1998 season, we planned to celebrate this rare feat with a party that would rival the epic bashes held at the Delta Tau Chi house.

We were all lifelong Falcons fans who had suffered through countless losing seasons. The Falcons probably would never make it to another Super Bowl in our lifetimes, so we wanted to make lasting memories.

At least we dreamed big.

There was no bacon-wrapped sausage. There was no sausage-wrapped bacon. There was no bacon at all.

There was nothing super about our Super Bowl spread.

The convergence of empty wallets and an inability to cook led to a very limited menu. Since I was the only party-goer who owned a grill, I was assigned the task of cooking the main course, hamburgers, and delivering them to the party up the street.

The hamburgers looked delectable on the outside. Juicy and brown. After the first person took that initial bite, he held up the hamburger and exclaimed, “Mine is still mooing!” That set off a chain reaction. Friends sliced opened their hamburgers to unveil the carnage. They all were a step below rare, whatever that is.

Not only did I drop the ball, I fumbled it in the end zone and the other team recovered it for a touchdown.

Embarrassed and defeated (like the Falcons would be in just a few hours), I gathered up the hamburgers and finished them in the oven.

My culinary skills have drastically improved in the 13 years since. There was plenty of room to improve. This year, I’ve been charged with making potato salad — not because my friends are fearful of Salmonella — because other people are preparing the main dishes.

So as this afternoon turns into evening and the Super Bowl kicks off, I’ll be well on my way to consuming my required, fair share of 1,200 calories and 50 grams of fat from snacking. That calorie count will rise as the game progresses.

There are rumors that bacon-wrapped chicken will be at our Super Bowl party.



Dalton native Jamie Jones is co-city editor of The Daily Citizen.

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