Oscar Fiesta Fiasco

Hollywood's all about product placement, right?

For the Oscars this year, we decided to order out from the expensive but reliably good Mexican restaurant up the road. But the path to tacos was fraught with obstacles.

Police had closed a big stretch of the one street that brings us right to the restaurant, and we got lost, as a ten-minute trip doubled and then nearly tripled in length. We pictured all the red-carpet moments we were missing and thought about bagging the dinner entirely. And then, after a few more twists and turns in pursuit of the confusingly placed orange detour signs that were our only hope, we saw, off in the distance, the glittering string lights of a taqueria.

The damage to our food was done, but we didn't care. Actually, Margy's pork tacos were packed smartly, with the tortillas to be filled at home. My massive taco-tostado-enchilada assortment, however, had sort of solidified into a homogenous mass where beef was indistinguishable from bean, shred of lettuce from soggy strip of tortilla. Whatever. Jon Stewart was making his way to the stage.

And now I report that we are officially in the midst of Pork Week. With brats and beans in the fridge and sausage quiche on tomorrow's menu -- not to mention the fact that Margy's Mexican leftovers will feed us thrice over the next few days -- we're ready to pig out.