Fat City just received a phone call from the assignment desk of a local TV station: "Hey, where can we get a sugarcoated Satan sandwich in Kansas City?" asked the assignment editor. He was referring to Missouri Congressman Emanuel Cleaver's morning tweet railing against the debt-ceiling deal. The Rev. Cleaver called the deal a "sugar-coated satan sandwich. If you lift the bun, you will not like what you see."
It's not uncommon for a religious figure -- even a fictional one -- to find satanic influences in food: Remember Dana Carvey's humorless "Enid Strict," the uptight "Church Lady" from Saturday Night Live? In one sketch, she berates a young woman for serving a satanic "Cherry Jello Jubilee" dessert.
I'm sure I've never had a "sugar-coated satan sandwich" in this city, but I've tasted a couple that have come kind of close.
The best-known sugarcoated sandwich is probably the French croque monsieur or its American cousin, the Monte Cristo sandwich. But those sandwiches are typically heavenly -- not Mephistophelian. A more likely candidate, without sugar, might be the very hot -- and kind of tasty -- creation served at Steak 'n Shake: the Pepperjack Melt. It's steakburgers, grilled onions, pepperjack cheese and jalapeno peppers -- mercifully served on the side.
But I'm sure there are many better candidates for a Satan Sandwich -- sugarcoated or not. I can't be the only person in town who has lifted up a bun and not liked what I saw.