THE LOST WEEKEND: AN ENCASED MEATS LOVE STORY.

ENTER "THE FINO COCKTAIL."

When my beloved cat Fino went to live with "that nice young couple on a farm" last month, I resolved to create a cocktail in his honor.

Like its legendary namesake, the "Fino Cocktail" had to be cool, sweet, strong and, above all...a striking blue!

Last night, with the help of my trusted guinea pig Agatha, the Fino Cocktail was perfected. And I have to say, it's a damn good cocktail. Here's the recipe:

THE FINO COCKTAIL

2 oz. light rum

1/2 oz. Simple Syrup

1/2 oz. Blue Curacao

2 dashes Fee Brothers Orange Bitters

Silver Dollar-sized Lemon peel

Step 1: Add rum, Simple Syrup, Blue Curacao and Bitters to a shaker.

Step 2: Add abundant ice to shaker, stir until ice cold and strain into a chilled cocktail glass.

Step 3: Twist lemon peel over drink to float the oils, and discard.

Step 4: Drink, purr and make love. That's what Fino would do.

Note: To make Simple Syrup, add 1 c. sugar to 1 c. boiling water. Off heat, stir until sugar is completely dissolved, cool and refrigerate.

BONEY DOG'S FIRST AND LAST ANNUAL BRATWURST SMACK-DOWN.

Take fifty food fanatics, thirty-four varieties of bratwurst, a vacuum-sealed bag of homemade proscuitto, a Holmesian hot dog named "The Big Wally," four Weber kettle grills, three waffle irons and a man named "Boney Dog." Drop them onto a field in southern Wisconsin for seven hours. What do you get?

You get Boney Dog's First and Last Annual Bratwurst Smack-down...which you can read all about HERE.

And yes...it was I who brought the Ream's.

Here we have the infamous Boney Dog nearly cracking under the pressure of grilling the same damn sausage for five and half continuous hours.

Eating the same damn sausage for five and a half continuous hours was a much easier feat.

Contrary to appearances, we did take time to eat our vegetables. Pictured above is Mrs. Boney Dog's German Potato Salad. Teeming with grilled potato slices, bacon and vinegar, it was the best I've ever had.

Thanks again, Dog. It may not have been much fun for you, but it was a day on Fantasy Island for the rest of us. A really, seriously fabulous day.

EXIT THE LOVE MACHINE.

SEPTEMBER 8, 1997 - AUGUST 4, 2009.

Irreplaceable.

A STATEMENT SO CLASSIC, ONLY A SIX YEAR OLD COULD UTTER IT.

"Mommy [i.e., my ex-wife] doesn't like boys with muscles. So, I don't know why she married you."

HOLY CALCOTS!

I got mentioned in the Telegraph.

And it took me two years to find out.

WISCONSIN? OR CATALUNYA?

They both do white sausages.  And they both do nice mosaic-work.

Although Barcelona has a much better football team.