From this high perch, the rooster’s obsession only grew. At exactly four o'clock in the morning, long before a single ray of light hit the farm, he would shatter the silence of the barn. He wasn’t crowing for the sun; he was announcing to Grandfather Horse, the dog, and the entire sleeping world that against all odds, he still believed in the cheese dream.

But striding in with louder cheer, Chicken & Waffles draw us near. Crunch and syrup, spice and sweet, A carnival of clash complete.

The recipe seemed innocuous enough: chicken, blackberries, and a whole lot of peppers. "Perfect," I thought, "a little kick, a little sweet." Grandma knew what's up, and she clearly didn't want Betty to know.