I had a Gulf Lobster Thermidor last night, with a full bottle of Cuvee Dom Perignon, preceded by a couple of shots of cheap Jack Daniels (which I kept spilling on my rattlesnake boots). I felt I owed this to myself because I had lost the better part of the evening listening to Al Gore trying to pronounce boring and banal correctly. I was adrift in existential angst and really would have spent my time better reading Jean Paul Sartre (who I haven’t read since my undergraduate days and then only because of the threat of force). Now, Alt, if you think that celebrating Thanksgiving in the South (and eating Turducken) is the very essence of haut cuisine, then you and Gore should continue fooling yourselves. And that may be the connection between food and politics. Besides, I will remind you, I am married to a Southerner who considers herself a great cook. I am a graduate of a hard school and know exactly the connection between food and politics. By the way, I lied, I ate hospital food last night.