Yesterday was our first baseball game of the season. It was actually Game 3, of which Our Team managed to lose the first two. They made up for it last night, though!
So why is a baseball game fodder for a cooking post? What, you don’t think I actually eat the food they serve in those places, do you?
Okay, you’re right. I do eat the food. I like it, too. Even though I know it’s not good for me.
What I really hate are the prices. Talk about a captive audience.
Except that we’re not captive. They always let you bring in whatever food you want. They just frown on alcohol. That you have buy onsite.
Since we are retirees (read frugal. Okay, read cheap, if you want), we pay conscious attention to our budget. So not only do we attend baseball games on $2 Wednesday, we bring our own food.
This is a sneaky way for me to eat both healthful and cheap.
But trust me, we have fun with it. Here’s what I made for yesterday’s game:
Yep. Grilled hot dogs. Actually, mine is a hot link with mustard and sauerkraut Rick’s is a regular hot dog with catsup and pickle relish.
But not really a “regular” hot dog. Or a regular hot link, either. These are from Fork in the Road, where they use pasture-raised and UNCURED meat. That’s important, because if you’re going to eat things like bacon or sausage or hot dogs, you need to eat it without nitrites and stuff.
So before we leave, I grill the meat, using my trusty grill pan. Then I assemble the sandwiches and wrap them tightly in foil. I wrap a towel around them and stick the whole package in a large baggie. That’s to keep any drips off the rest of our game-day stuff. Things like hats, scarves, gloves, extra sweaters and blankets… hey, we’re going to a night game in Oakland. It’s cold!
We then hop on BART, go to the stadium, find our seats, and prepare to feast. Since we’re cheap (may as well admit it), we also bring our own water and don’t order beer. In my dreams, we have beer with those hot dogs. But not at $9 for a glass. Someday, maybe.
We don’t get away for nothing though, because we always want dessert. Rick buys a malt and I get an ice cream sandwich, the kind made with two big chocolate chip cookies.
Yeah, those aren’t good for us, either. And frankly, I was not all that pleased with my ice cream sandwich. When you don’t eat them for a while, you can really taste the fake ingredients and all the sugar. So I’m thinking maybe I’ll make pudding or something to bring to the next game. Or I’ll whip a batch of kettle corn.
Something like that.