Our previous rumination on the supremacy of mass-produced american wines could only be completed with a classic pairing to arouse the palate. Some may say things like “try pairing Franzia with wood chips” or “shut up and chug the bag-o-wine” but I believe it is time for me to share with the world an instant classic pairing. Today’s “things I’ve eaten” winner is the south american chiguiro. I remember the instant this little critter and I made eye contact along the steppes of the Colombian savanna. The hunt for the legendary chiguiro, however, would be a challenge far too great for a lesser man. This is because I knew he could only be enticed with superhuman song. Fortunately, I happened to be carrying a camelback pack chock full of Franzia along with my survival kit. Spurred by the promise of a delectable treat, I drank and drank, focused on the gargantuan task at hand. Then, I knew the time had come. I ululated as if I were a pygmy in heat, crooning ever-skyward like the blind pilot of the Russian Air Force. In no time, the chiguiro joined in my unholy tune, rearing its tiny, furry body on its hind legs and wheeking along with my ululations. At the climax of the song, I stared deep into its eyes and sang of the countless potatoes I had let rot under the kitchen sink like children abandoned in a cave. Immediately, the chiguiro dropped dead. As everyone knows, the chiguiro can only be killed by an elaborate simile. Satisfied with a successful hunt, I sat down to enjoy my South American delicacy, only to realize that I was out of Franzia. Thus, began my long trip ever-southward into Peru, in quest of their lone advertised Price Rite.
