What Do Bess and Stephen Colbert Have in Common?
Like every other food blogger in St. Louis and probably the country, I went to see Julie & Julia over the weekend. (It was mandatory. There was a memo and everything.) I enjoyed it. A cat played a minor but almost heroic role. And it was so goddamned inspiring that upon returning home, I went online to see if Julia Child had ever bothered to concoct any cat food recipes. Alas, she never did, the selfish bitch. All she cared about was feeding people. I did, however, stumble across a very informative video clip.
Stephen Colbert has an assistant, so he stumbles across things in a much more timely manner than I do. Last spring, they discovered a study from the American Association of Wine Economists (yes! a real organization!; no! they do not appear to be taking job applicants) that revealed that 83 percent of those surveyed did could not tell pâté from dog food. (There were only eighteen people in the study, but hey, science!)
Stephen was distressed. How could our nation have fallen so far? When he gives his assistant one hundred bucks to get him pâté, she always returns with "the fanciest of feasts." He eats it from an elegant dish with a silver spoon, but the can it comes from is hauntingly familiar.
|The Colbert Report||Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c|
|Stephen's Fancy Feast|
I bellowed for Bess and dragged her from her favorite windowsill so she could watch, too. She was displeased. She hissed and wriggled from my lap to the floor. But she did stick around to the bitter end. Her face was pointed in the direction of the computer screen, and the expression on it was grim.
It said, "How could you have the nerve to make me watch that man eat one of my favorite meals in the whole wide world after I've just endured another dinner of Purina?" It had its intended effect. I felt unspeakably guilty. Fortunately, we happened to have a can of Fancy Feast on hand.
There is nothing like a can of wet cat food to soothe the savage beast. The instant Bess heard that can pop, her hissing turned to impatient mewing. And as soon as the bowl hit the floor, her snout disappeared into a mound of chicken and tuna.
|The fanciest of feasts.|
I think it may have even surpassed the Roast Beef Hash from Trader Joe's. The Fancy Feast, at least, was juicy, not oily. It was, as Stephen said, "a little on the salty side," but tolerable.
Ah, if only my culinary efforts could make my cat that happy!