Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack

This blog entry is a front. I might as well just admit that right now. I know that the "Foodie's Guide" is supposed to be about food (duh) and because I am a purist, I'll write about food - towards the end. But for the moment, there are more pressing matters.

Those that know me, know that I am truly passionate about - maybe - three or four things. Clearly, food is one of those things. But, if there is anything in this world that gives food a run for its money for a place in my heart, it's the Red Sox. My beloved boys won their division for the first time in twelve years. I am just thrilled because, above all, they deserved it.

I am a typical, totally-over-emotional, crazed Sox fan and I can not say that there was not a night in late August when I might have screamed out loud at my television set, "Teams that get swept by the [expletive] Yankees don't deserve to play in October!" But I was wrong. There, I said it. They fought hard all season long and they played some outstanding ball.

One of my favorite things this season was how a bunch of the youngest players and some of the most unsuspecting guys became stars. Think about the season that Dustin Pedroia's had or how invaluable Mike Lowell has been, or about the "kids" who didn't even know if they'd see major league play, including the incredible Jacoby Ellsbury (seriously, did you know he hit .353?) and the insta-star Clay Buchholz (look at his face, it's like apple pie in the human form).

Even most of those burdened with big expectations lived up. Our ace, Josh Beckett (or, as he's know in my house, "my boyfriend Josh"), got his twenty games and David Ortiz, despite having a more mortal number of home runs, had one of the best offensive seasons in the American League. And, just in the spirit of gloating, I have to tell you that around late May, I said to my husband Paul, "I have a feeling that Lugo is really going to come alive after the All-Star break." Thank you, Julio.

A critical component of my Sox mania is Fenway Park. Is there a more beautiful place on earth? Even the Today Show gave it its due (take that Yankee Stadium). I love the whole experience: that first cool night in April when you walk up the ramp from the concession area and see that impossibly green grass for the first time in a year; knowing which pitcher is coming to the mound by what ridiculous nineties song is thumping out of the sound system; the fact that you are with tens of thousands of other people that are living, eating, breathing each pitch, each swing.

I went to my last regular season game this afternoon. It was a game that "meant nothing"- every uncertainty about the post-season had been decided the night before. Even knowing that, when the Sox managed to load the bases at the bottom of the ninth for a run they desperately needed, every one of those 35,000 fans were on their feet chanting, cheering, and pounding their fists. That is love. And I love being part of it.

Ok, enough blathering. I could seriously go on and on about them. But I did promise that I'd talk about food! I guess when you are discussing food at Fenway Park, you're really talking about Aramark. Aramark handles all of the concessions at Fenway, including the guys that lug goodies around the stands (quick marketing comment, because I can't help myself, whoever thought of putting those guys in bright gold uniforms was genius. In a sea of red and navy, you can see them across the entire stadium).

Now, when you're going to the park, it is essential that you get the Fenway Frank. It never fails to delight. It is vital that you get your dog from a vendor in the stands. The ones that come from the concession area just are not the same. As far as hot dogs go, these are perfect - steamed, with a doughy, 1970s Wonder Bread-esque bun. I like mine with a whole package of Gulden's mustard.

Other delicious snacks available at Fenway include "hot, salty nuts" (how could you not want to eat them?!), steamed pretzels, spicy fries and chicken fingers, grilled sausages, soft serve in a mini plastic helmet, and Legal Sea Foods clam chowder. [Sidebar: The chowder is only served in the better areas of the park. I usually sit with the steerage class in the bleachers, but today a friend had gotten us great corporate seats by third base and I found out that they even deliver it to the seats over there ("getcha hot soop, heah!"). I'm outraged. Aramark is so getting a letter.] The options that I usually find to be unsatisfying are the popcorn, cotton candy, pizza, hamburgers, and their version of "Dippin' Dots" (the little frozen ice cream pellets).

I'd give the Aramark concessions at Fenway Park a B. Top off a dog and some fries with a chocolate-vanilla twist and enjoy watching some big, drunk dude get tossed out by security. More importantly, don't kick over your Bud Light when you leap from your seat to see Manny hit one over the Green Monster.

It's October, people. Time to get your "I Believe" pants on.