For a Happy Life, Feed Your Man
from C.D. Hersh
They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.
At age 18, I
(Catherine, the C of C.D. Hersh) decided to cook a dinner for my then boyfriend
to show off my homemaking abilities. It was something you did way back then. I
planned a four-course dinner to cover all the basics of a meal. I served him
two sets of appetizers: shrimp cocktail with homemade cocktail sauce and bacon wrapped
hot dogs. A big salad, an entrée and two vegetables, and poached pears drizzled
with chocolate sauce for dessert rounded out the meal.
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| Image by Michael Sylvester from Pixabay |
I’ve long since
forgotten exactly what I served for the middle portions of the meal because the
beginning of the dinner was so spectacular that it is burned in both our
memories. The shrimp cocktail was a huge success. I lined the pedestaled
dessert cup with lettuce leaves, piled a generous amount of the homemade
cocktail sauce in the center and carefully laid the curved shrimps around the
edge of the dish. The presentation was exquisite. He was all smiles as he ate
my offering.
The next appetizer
up was the bacon-wrapped hot dogs, (recipe below). You could use little smokies
or sausages, but hot dogs were the choice that day. I carefully wrapped each hot dog
in a strip of bacon, cut them into bite-sized pieces (because a savvy hostess would
never serve an entire hot dog as an appetizer), and laid them on a baking rack.
The bacon kept falling off. So I hunted for something to skewer the strips of
meat to the hotdogs. I finally found a box of toothpicks, or rather a few
toothpicks, in the pantry. I counted the number of hot dog pieces I had and then
how many toothpicks I had. I was woefully short on toothpicks. So, like any
frugal cook, I broke the toothpicks into the number of pieces I needed and carefully
stuck them into the hotdogs, making a mental note to remove the skewers before
serving. I popped the hors d’oeuvres in the oven and went back to work
preparing the rest of the meal.
When the oven timer
rang, I removed the appetizer from the oven, put the next course in to finish
cooking, checked that none of the pots were boiling over, plated the hot dogs
and proudly presented them to my boyfriend who was in the living room watching
television.
“Yumm,” he said. “This
looks good.”
Pleased that I
hadn’t burned them and that they looked appetizing, I picked up the empty
shrimp cocktail dish—which look like it had been licked clean—smiled, and
returned to the kitchen. A bit later I returned to the living room to retrieve
the hot dog platter. My boyfriend had eaten every single hors d’oeuvre.
As I looked down at
the platter my stomach dropped to the floor. “Where are the toothpicks?” I
asked anxiously.
“Toothpicks?” he
said. “You had toothpicks in them?”
“Yes, to hold on the
bacon.” By now my heart was racing. “Did you throw them into an ashtray or the
waste basket?” I glanced at the ever-present ashtray sitting beside the sofa.
It was empty. So was the wastebasket.
He put his hand to
his throat and massaged it. “I thought they were a bit crunchy.”
“You ate them?” I
asked in terror.
“You didn’t take
them out?” he responded. “Why weren’t
they sticking out of the hotdogs?”
I looked at him in
dismay. “I didn’t have enough to put in all the hors d’oeuvres, so I broke them
into smaller pieces. I must have forgotten to remove them. Oh. My. Gosh! I fed
you toothpicks! What if they rip up your stomach or intestines? I may have
killed you! I’m soooo sorry.”
He took my
accidental murder attempt with great aplomb. “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “I
chewed them up real good.”
His assurance didn’t
make me feel much better. “Do you want the rest of the meal, or should we go to
the emergency room?”
“What are you
serving me?”
I told him the menu,
and then added, “With no toothpicks in sight. I’ve used them all up on the
appetizer.”
“I’ll eat,” he
replied. Then we both broke out in gales of laughter. But I kept a real close
eye on him for a few days just to be sure.
That boyfriend was
Donald (the D of C.D. Hersh), the same man I married a few years later. He
didn’t die. I wasn’t indicted for murder, and we’ve lived happily-ever-after
for half a century. Occasionally, I serve him a burnt offering, which we laugh
about, but I never, never, never break a toothpick for use in meal prep. I can’t
even pick one up without remembering that first meal I cooked for him.
I learned an important lesson that day—for a
happy life, don’t kill your future spouse.
For your eating
pleasure here’s a version of the hotdog hors d’oeuvres, using whole toothpicks
Bacon Wrapped Hotdog Hors d’oeuvres4 hot dogs
4 slices lean
(center cut) bacon, thin slices
2 slices American
cheese (optional)
Toothpicks (WHOLE)
Preheat oven to
400° F.
Cover a rimmed
baking sheet with foil and lay a cookie rack over it.
Wrap one slice of
bacon around each hotdog. Secure with WHOLE toothpicks at ends and middle. Place
hot dogs on cookie rack.
Bake for 10-15
minutes, turn hot dogs. Bake another 10-15 minutes or until bacon has cooked and
crisped.
If using cheese,
cut each slice in half and lay a half slice over hot dog and leave in oven
until cheese begins to melt.
Remove from oven and
cut hotdogs into bite-sized pieces.
Remove toothpicks.
Tip: Cooking the hot dog whole means you won’t need as many
toothpicks and will help ensure you don’t puncture your beloved’s intestines
when he accidently eats them because you forgot to remove the tiny wooden
skewers. ☺
Please allow us to introduce you to our paranormal suspense series
The Turning Stone Chronicles.
Putting words and stories on paper is second nature to co-authors C.D. Hersh. They’ve written separately since they were teenagers and discovered their unique, collaborative abilities in the mid-90s. As high school sweethearts and husband and wife, Catherine and Donald believe in true love and happily ever after.
They are looking forward to many years of co-authoring and book sales, and a lifetime of happily-ever-after endings on the page and in real life.
