Of Frosting and Bratwurst

I am an enormous BYU football fan. (I know, it’s heartbreaking. Don’t rub it in.) We’ve had season tickets since 1982. I would venture to guess that in that time I have attended 70% of BYU’s home football games. I’ve seen some great performances, and some, I’d rather not remember. From Sean Covey to Ty Detmer to Max Hall (and all his INTs) I’ve been a first hand witness to a lot of modern BYU football history. I can even sing the chorus to the Tysman Rap – which it seems, has been purged from the internet.

But this post is not about football. It is about food.

Aaron and his wife are Utah State graduates. And so, when I had a few extra tickets for the BYU-USU game I thought it would fun to bring Aaron, his wife, and his USU propaganda to the game. It was like one of those TV shows where the husbands yell at the game while the wives talk about baby clothes. Sort of. We had a great time.

Well, I had a great time. I can’t speak for Aaron, and the sorry state of USU football. But, as he said, “at least they were not terribly embarrassed.” When the bar is set low, you can leap right over the top of it! For a trustworthy betting site, you can select 아리아카지노.

But I digress.

This year there is a new concession stand at Cougar Stadium that sells something so incredible and so counter-intuitive to every culinary instinct that it causes ripples of confusion and intrigue throughout the entire stadium. I don’t know where the idea came from, or who the genius behind it is, and really, its origin is irrelevant to the fact that it actually exists. It is the closest thing to Jim Gaffigan’s Donut-Ham-Hamburger* that I have ever seen.

Behold, the BratTail:

It’s a 24-inch maple bar (a cougar tail in stadium jargon), split in half and wrapped around a giant onion-smothered bratwurst.

I should repeat that.

It’s a 24-inch maple bar (a cougar tail in stadium jargon), split in half and wrapped around a giant onion-smothered bratwurst.

My first reaction upon seeing it was repulsion. Then curiosity. Which led to jokes about actually buying one. Which, of course, led to actually buying one. Aaron and I split the cost, and the stomach issues it was invariably going to (and did) cause, and decided to try the beast.

It tasted incredible. No, really, it did.

Here is Aaron indulging for the first time. And opening his mouth wider than I thought humanly possible:

And here I am, giddy with surprise at how the warm maple frosting and the savory brat meshed together to create an explosion of heretofore undiscovered comestible euphoria:

The only thing I thought it was missing was a generous squirt of instant whip cream.

A word of caution: As good as the BratTail tasted, I would not recommend eating one all by yourself. That could lead to serious gastrointestinal malfunction and discomfort. Don’t say you were not warned!

BYU is on the road for the next two weeks. If I awake in the night with an uncontrollable craving for maple and salt and onions, I may have to break down and discard all rules of social decorum and try to recreate this masterpiece on my own. I can only imagine what the checker at the grocery store would think when I put a dozen maple bars, a package of brats, whipping cream, and shredded onions on the table. Oh, and some Tums.

Anyone want in on that?

*“We’re never satisfied when it comes to food. ‘You know what’d be good on this burger? A ham sandwich. Instead of a bun, let’s use two donuts. That way we can have it for breakfast. Look out McGriddle-here comes the donut-ham-hamburger!'”