You Want A Super Bowl Party?

I'll show you a Super Bowl Party.

First? An apéritif.

Then, first course. Scungile salad with a bottle of a light, delicious white wine . . .

. . . Whoopsie! Wrong bottle . . .

There we go.

Second course. Smoked bluefish, olives, and a lovely bottle of white wine. I think this may have been the White Burgundy.

And now? Time to prep for dinner.

 Can't you just smell this lime?

(Yes, Mistah took that photo. Of course he did. That's why it's the best one.)

Garlic, natch.

Onions, of course.

Oh, and mushrooms. Beautiful mushrooms.

Is anyone al-LER-gic to mushrooms?

A party isn't a party, if you're Mistah, without bitter greens. The bitter-er, the better.

Time to start cooking.

Those very selfsame onions and garlic . . .

. . . and mushrooms . . .

. . . sautée themselves into phantasmagorical glory.

And a little red wine never hurt.

The broccoli rabe's not so bad, either.

And, oh. Oh! The lobster ravioli and mushroom ravioli.

Oh, people. Oh. The smells, the sounds, the atmosphere.

Remind me how anyone lives without six burners?

Double ravioli glory, that's what we call this one.

Mistah was outside grilling the salmon in the dark. That photo exists only in our minds' collective eye.

And then, just like that . . .

. . . perfection.

Show us what you've got, Schleck . . .

Oh yeah.

Happy Super Bowl, my friends.

And finally . . .

. . . dessert.

And what about the game, you ask?

Don't Touch That Dial.

Got it covered.