Seattle is in full bloom, which means it is time for out-of-doors grilling at the Steen household. Unlike those fly-by-night amateur chefs who have hopped onboard the namby-pamby "hamburger sandwich" craze that's sweeping the nation, I am hard at work preparing the only comestible worth barbecuing: blood sausage. Of course, one cannot trust the blue-collar bumblers down at the corner butcher shop to prepare blood sausage correctly, and so I make mine from scratch, the time-honored and traditional Portuguese way.
First, one must hang a vigorous, still-kicking sow from its hind legs. Second, the windpipe of the pig must be slit (taking great care not to perforate the esophagus, lest the partially digested contents of the swine's stomach befoul the final product), and the blood must be collected in a silver bucket. While stirring the blood so that it does not clot—the stirring must be done with one's hand rather than a spoon, to keep the fluid pure—the other ingredients (barley, salt, garlic) are added, and the whole body- temperature mixture is immediately stuffed into a casing and tossed on the grill for 14 minutes or so, turning once.
The reason I have shared my favorite springtime recipe is because The Stranger persists in sending vegetablarians like MEGAN SELING to review restaurants. Ms. Seling—who by choice does not consume meat—is not the intended audience for a Mediterranean restaurant. Though tempted by veal and lamb, she persists in eating weeds, roots, and berries, then reviews the establishment as though she consumed anything resembling a satisfying dining experience. This is clearly unacceptable, and I would like to invite Ms. Seling over for a nice plate of blood sausage to tempt her palate over to the side of the virtuous (which is to say, the carnivorous). Once you have sated yourself on A. Birch Steen's sausage, Ms. Seling, you will know true satisfaction.
In more serious matters, DOMINIC HOLDEN assaults four good, decent Washingtonians who are fighting the good fight against deviate marriage. I trust that Mr. Holden will roll out of bed at noon tomorrow to find himself served with four pious, righteous lawsuits after this kind of irresponsible "journalism." For shame, Mr. Holden: You cannot just print whatever you want and call it truth. If you went to journalism school instead of pursuing sodomy as a lifestyle, you would know that.
In the section of The Stranger devoted to "music," ERIC GRANDY takes seriously the caterwauling of one "Juan MacLean," who is no doubt an undocumented worker of some sort. As if that bit of flagrant illegality wasn't enough, LINDY WEST befouls the "book" section by writing crass homosexual pornography. Too gay by far, Ms. West. I assume that Dan Savage was titillated by your shameless smut and so has allowed you to keep your job for another week. The sensate world weeps a bitter tear at this news.
