Eat Mor Chikin? The Roast Beast at Martin's Restaurant




If they had room, the chickens would be rolling around in their cages....


Inspired by those brave young Gump Guinea Pigs, I decided to eat outside the box during one of my frequent visits to local fried chicken and cornbread icon: Martin's Restaurant. Every now and then a little change of pace spices up one's mundane day to day grind. Today, being Valentine's Day, I invited my sweetie Myrtle to lunch on her favorite fried chicken and cornbread at Martins in honor of our seven non-consecutive years of living together. In fact, Martins is about the only incentive that will get old Mert out of the trailer park and away from her DVR collection of "The Biggest Loser" episodes (and her vodka and milk).

After seven years with the same person some things get a little old. Same is true of even our favorite restaurants and, darn it, even very good fried chicken. So today while Myrtle ordered her usual white meat with three sides one being fried green tomatoes (only available every other day), I took a walk on the wild side with an order of the Roast Beast. When I ordered Myrtle looked up from her menu with a curious expression that turned to one of affection. "Wow," she purred, "You thinking of doing something different is exciting." I knew that look and said: "Would you like a bite of my roast beast?" She replied in a husky whisper: "You might get a bite later if you're lucky...."

Fish on!

When the meal came (with extra cornbread of course), I was not disappointed. The roast beast was fork-cutting tender and not so much to eat that I had to loosen my belt at the table. I noted that Myrtle's Spanx were visably undulating as she chowed down on the cornbread but of course I said nothing so as not to destroy the "try something new" Karma. Indeed, Myrtle loved the little nip of beef (a few more bites) and started murmuring something about she making it worth my while back at the castle on wheels tonight. She had completely forgotten that I had not given her any card or roses this Valentines Day. And not one word about getting hitched after all these years of living in sin. (After all, she needs to go ahead and get that divorce first). I sealed the deal with a double order of 'nanner pudding which she gobbled until her Spanx almost blew.

So, to hell with all these commercial devices designed to shame us menfolk into spending money on things completely impractical. Who needs diamonds, chocolates, flowers and cards? I say the way to a woman's heart is through her pie hole. To prove it I can only say that Mert and I left Martin's hand in hand with a warm glow in our bellies, lust in our hearts and feeling much better about ourselves and our relationship than when we walked in. After today I think there may be a case for considering cornbread an aphrodisiac, especially when warm and lathered with whipped butter from the Land-O-Lakes.

Heck, after tonight I may even pay the filing fee for her divorce.

I just hope I can stay awake while she watches "The Biggest Loser".

Bra-cha-cha!