It's been a year since I made Scot one of these abominations. Click here if you want to be caught up on the whole story.

Scot's been mentioning the Garbage Plate lately. I've been ignoring him. Monday, I was on the phone with him and he said, "What about tomorrow?" He caught me off guard. I agreed without thinking. Crap. So, the Tuesday night plan included game three of the World Series, some beer, and cooking up "a mess" of garbage plates. I've spent worse evenings.

I've gotten pretty good at these things if "good" is the right word to use. I invited several people to join us. Butch was excited about coming down for the game and some beer. When I told him about the evening's menu he made up some excuse not to come. I got similar responses from everyone else I asked. Ken, a guy I sail with and a coworker of Scot, and all-around good guy, like Scot, is a Rochester Institute of Technology alumnus and has been to Nick Tahou's. He was in.

So, to cut to the chase, the garbage plates were the "best" (read authentic) I've ever made. Scot was very happy. So happy, in fact, he almost puked. Seriously. Hands on his knees over the toilet happy. I tried to get him to move outside so I wouldn't have to clean up what would be an unimaginable mess. He spent some time in my garage (it was cooler out there) and survived without serious incident.

So the time was right. I had to stop this tradition of annual garbage plates. I suggested a new Leap Year Tradition. I'll make Scot a garbage plate every February 29. He thought this might be a good idea. Only 493 days to go!