Finally!

(I posted this on LJ, but thought it appropriate to add here as well)

I can't believe it took this long... I honestly thought it was just never going to happen, but I finally had a dream about Joe. It was nothing horribly special on its own, and that's kind of what made it special. We weren't riding a lollipop train to chocolate marshmallow land. Jenn, Joe and I were having dinner together some place that looked like Earl Abel's in its better days but a bit fancier. We already knew Joe was sick, but it was that time period where we knew Joe was sick, but you couldn't tell by looking at him. We ate dinner and then Joe decided he was still hungry and fuck it, he was going to order a second course- of pork chops no less. I don't even know if Joe liked pork chops, I personally have never cared for them, so it was a weird thing my mind decided to go with. I thought this second course thing was crazy but I would just have to join him and order something too. Jenn thought we were both just nuts. And then my alarm went off the first time. And I cried and tried to force myself back into the dream. I could still see his face and hear his voice but I couldn't make the dream stay. I woke up crying. I didn't want to wake up back into this world. I wanted to spend more time at dinner with Joe. We were just having a normal conversation and a good time. Nothing dream-like about it. Except for our unnatural ability to consume a ton of food... which isn't that far from the truth. :-)
damn it.

cheesy bacony cheese

Last week the macaroni and cheese at Hoover's made me so sad. It is damn good mac and cheese, don't get me wrong. I had leftovers, and the next day when I scraped it out of my to-go box it made actual squeaky noises. Which I think indicates extreme cheesy awesomeness.

But you just can't go out to some restaurant and get mac and cheese like Joe made it. My favorite time he made it was three years ago. We cooked a massive Thanksgiving feast with Joe and Jenn. Joe smoked the meats and made an enormous, oven-sized pan of his brilliant m/c. Jenn did pies, and Eric and I did a pale imitation of my Grandma's awesome rolls, plus sides. Joe's m/c was staggering. This enormous pan was probably four inches deep with his four-cheese, bacon, who-knows-what-all concoction. Lotsa browned crumb thingies on top. Ahhhh. The dude knew how to make it right.

Then in February we went over to cook a meal for Jenn and Joe, and sure enough, Joe whipped out some leftover m/c to add to the meal. He told us, as if he were giving us a priceless gift, that the secret to his mac and cheese was beer. Ah ha! It makes perfect sense.

Does anyone know which cheeses? How much bacon? What kinda beer? It might be something we need to work on together, rebuilding Joe's masterful macaroni and cheese. Or at least trying to. Then we can all sit around a giant pan of it and remember the amazing ways Joe fed us, with comfort food, disturbing humor, preposterous movies, music, and general crazy Joeishness. Sigh.