STEPH DEROSA: PIG UTERUS - IT'S WHAT'S FOR DINNER >>>

There was moment in time when my dog didn’t give a shit what she ate.   Even shit itself â€"she’d eat that as well.  Dog owners know what I’m talking about.  As my dog has aged and is nearing her geriatric canine years, she’s become quite the finicky little brat.  She’s gone from cheap Pedigree food, to all-natural specialty canned duck and sweet potato food, to not wanting to eat anything but REAL meat.  For this, I venture out to the East Asian market on South 38^th Street in Tacoma.  This is where, for $1.29 a pound; I find beef heart, tripe, livers, and gizzards. 

Being from Texas, there are not too many types of meat that I can’t handle.  I’m not gonna lie, I enjoy dining on such foods as pickled eggs and fried chicken gizzards â€" foods that most Yanks might find repulsive.  But it was at this East Asian market where I found the ultimate meat to test the ol’ gag-reflex: Pork Uteri.  That’s right, a pig’s uterus.  This was located next to the chicken feet, but under the pig snout in the Asian refrigerated foods section.

Pork Uteri, folks, is what we’ll be having for this week’s Dinner with DeRosa.  Grubbin’!

My first guest is Morgan.  I met him over a year ago at a Tacoma Beer Society event.   I’m speaking of the Tacoma Beer Society that thrived for a year before I handed it off to someone who didn’t do SHIT with it, and I watched all my hard work go down the drain.  Morgan was a regular attendee, even bringing his wife to a meeting only a couple of days after she had given birth to their child.  She looked fantastic, and was such a sport. Those two are both invited to this week’s imaginary Dinner with DeRosa.  Hey, she grew a baby in her uterus, so why not eat a pig’s?

Jenan Eichinger is one of the most beautiful, friendliest people I know.  She seemed a little quiet when I met her at this year’s Love Tacoma cruise, but I know I’ll be able to pull the “wild” out of her.  I can’t wait to catch up with her over Babe’s baby basket - I mean uterus.

Which leads me to this question: If the pig has had piglets, does the uterus taste different than a virgin pig’s?

Which leads me to another question I’ve always had about “pigs”:  Why do they expect you to slow down and hit the low speed before you get to the speed limit sign, yet you can’t speed up in order to be flyin’ by the time you hit the higher speed limit sign?

Maybe we’ll discuss these questions with Saul Escudero, who is also invited this week.  Saul is the typical “Mr. Hollywood”.  I met him at last week’s South Sound Eats launch party where he was workin’ the room, Hollywood style.  He lives in California but is in T-town often on business.  This is a guy that was humorous, witty, and personable, but looked at my chest way too much while we were talking for me to take him seriously.

Whatever.  I still think he’s cool.  I’ll share my uterus with him.  No, wait.  The pig’s uterus.  I’ll share the pig’s uterus with him.

Stacy from the Fife Starbucks is invited this week to dinner.  Bless her heart, she interrupted my meeting at just the perfect time.  I had to meet with these three other women, one of who is an overbearing, know-it-all control freak.  The only way for me to get along with someone like that is either keep my mouth shut, or talk to someone else.  Good gravy, she is such a pain in my ass.  I’ll have to vent more in this week’s Toilet Tales about that whole issue.  She is simply intolerable, and I’d love to yank that huge stick out of her ass at this week’s dinner, but then I’d have to invite her to dinner, thus having to spend more time with her â€" and that’s just not gonna happen.

Pat Nagle can come this week to DWD.  I’ve known him for many-a-years.  Back in 1998 or 1999 (I can’t remember, it was so long ago) I waited tables at the Harmon.  Oh, the stories I could tell.  Oh, the stuff we all used to do after hours.  Le sigh.  It was good, good times, that’s for sure.  Pat really hasn’t matured much in the past decade, yet neither have I â€" so we’re even.  This should make for some interesting dinner conversation.  And the fact that were having uterus leaves the table W I D E open for immature innuendos.  Get it? WIDE? 

Ok, I’ll stop now with the uteri-talk.  Mangiamo!