In The Ghetto Gourmet I described, under The Roaring 40 at the bottom of the page, how one could take nigh undrinkable cheap rum and make it bearable by the shot, primarily for medicinal purposes. But what about for sipping, when you want to get buzzed in a considered and meaningful way while enjoying a video diversion?

For The Ghetto Gourmet ‘Partay Time’ is post three o’clock on Friday, after I have proofed or published or finished a book.

Once, over a year ago, having qualified for my excuse to get drunk at my desk, I decided to review a movie instead, Black Dynamite ‘Got Kung Fu Bitches’. Immediately becoming enthralled by this blackxploitation spoof that somehow failed to win an Oscar, and without taking my eye off the screen, I reached behind me for the beer can slot in the door of my three-foot high apartment fridge, conveniently in reach of this seat. I grabbed the cold can and savored the hiss of released carbonation as Michael Jai White argued on the phone with his aunt about interrupting his ‘Kong Fu’ practice.

And what was the taste I put to me lips, but orange soda, left over from Latiffah’s visit on the previous Saturday night. Having expected a National Boh aroma, I was stricken by the irony of holding a ghetto favorite in my hand while watching a movie about that ‘diabolical motherfuca’ Richard Nixon distributing ‘dick shrinking’ malt liquor among the black population. Reaching for the six dollar bottle of Port Royal rum, proudly bottled in Baltimore, I decided to pause the movie and cook up a proper partay platter.

Laffiffa had left all of the fixings for my feast. So, I mark the expense at 2.50 cents because I only went through 3 of the 12 condoms that came in the $10 box that I had purchased in celebration of her pending visit that previous Saturday night. All I need do was survey her remaining largesse, so thoughtfully left for my consumption, to work up a nice snack tray.

1. The used paper plate that she had thoughtfully neglected to place in the trash can—where some snobby bitch would have put it—but had instead left at the foot of the bed

2. The remains of her bottle of Texas Pete wing sauce

3. The unfinished bag of cheese curls, very important, as I was fresh out of cheese, as none had gone out of date and been reduced by Mister Mike down at the Ghetto Depot lately

4. The remains of her bag of Tostitoes tortilla chips

1. Place the corn chips on the plate, layered like roof shingles

2. Squirt plenty of wing sauce on the chips

3. Crush the cheese curls into a fine powder and sprinkle on the chips, to which the powder will adhere due to the wing sauce

4. Use the remainder of the wing sauce to heavily douse the cheese curl powder, as this will hydrate the powder and turn it into an approximation of squeeze cheese—albeit on the hot side—while being nuked.

5. Slice a clove of raw garlic over the plate, so that when Mom calls you up to make sure you haven’t eaten processed foods all week long, you don’t have to lie when you tell her you had fresh vegetables for dinner.

6. Nuke that plate on the beverage setting.

Enjoy your plate of victuals with your store brand orange or grape soda mixed two parts two one with your ginger infused cheap rum, mixed in a wine glass—provided by my wine drinking son when he invested in a new cherry wood wine glass cabinet that deserved to house better wine glasses—to lend ambiance to the cinema experience.

Don’t try fixing this for Latiffah. Just hand over the carry out menu for the Pakistani Pizza Parlor and get some rest—you’ll need it.