What? You're not using venison on your Super Bowl Frito Pie, like this version at Tillman's Roadhouse? Photo by Kevin Marple

While the organizers of last year’s North Texas Super Bowl are wondering why the football gods couldn’t have delivered us the weather we’re having this week in 2011 — instead of the Snow-and-Ice-Mageddon we got — Smithsonian.com reflects upon another Texas contribution to our country’s annual orgy on football and new television commercial campaigns: the Frito.

Those little fried corn chips were given birth in San Antonio in the 1930s, and they remain a cornerstone of business for the Plano-based Frito Lay company, which owns the trademark for the “Frito Chili Pie”: officially a “packaged meal combination consisting primarily of chili or snack food dips containing meat or cheese corn-based snack foods, namely, corn chips.”

But Smithsonian traces the true roots of Fritos much further back in the history of the Americas:

As much scorn and derision as today’s leading nutritional gurus heap onto processed foods, it’s worth noting that Fritos arrived here by way of a Mesoamerican staple and their invention and flavor owes a debt to one of the greatest food processing technologies ever invented: nixtamalization. The 3,000-year-old tradition adding calcium hydroxide—wood ash or lime—so greatly enriches the available amino acids in masa corn that Sophie Coe writes in America’s First Cuisines that the process underlies “the rise of Mesoamerican civilization.” Lacking this technology, early Europeans and Americans (who considered corn fit for slaves and swine) learned that eating a diet exclusively based on unprocessed corn led to pellagra, a debilitating niacin deficiency causing dermatitis, diarrhea, dementia and death.

Just a little something to think about as you’re dipping your chips this Sunday.

"Celebrities" are "people" too.

The restaurant sent over this photo, and the details.

Today Khloe, Kris Jenner and Rob Kardashian ate lunch at Arcodoro & Pomodoro. They loved the carpaccio, pizza, and Khloe’s risotto. Rob had to slip out early in order to catch a beauty treatment. They spent most of the meal trying to teach Rob to be nicer to women.  The girls were heading out to go shopping afterward. CHA-CHING.

Later in the day, Khloe shocked the world with this tweet before the Dallas Mavericks game:

My sisters just surprised me in Dallas!!!! @KimKardashian and @KourtneyKardash what what!!!! The game is going to be wild!

Someone give this woman a radio show.

Esquire:   “What we learned here is that rich people in Dallas are freaking weird. One couple revealed that they had 1,200 people at their wedding. Another proudly reminisced about their gummy-bear wedding cake — they were hosting dessert, and dessert-team member Ed Lee, he of the facial expressions, shot them a look that said, ‘You people are from another planet, but okay.’”

Baltimore Sun:  “The couple that owns the first insane mansion is Kim and Justin Whitman. Kim is an entertaining expert and seems to be auditioning for Real Housewives of Dallas … Keep an eye out for her on Bravo in the future. Kim hates cilantro, bell peppers, grease and things she has never tried. Basically she is a chef’s dream.”

Entertainment Weekly: “Cilantro is apparently public enemy number one on the Dallas version of Wisteria Lane.” Sisters Kim Whitman and Kari Kloewer both remarked on their hatred of cilantro. So maybe it’s more of a Canadian thing than a Dallas thing.

Atlanta Journal-Constitution:  “The only thing more ridiculous than having 800 people at a wedding is feeling the need to one-up your rich friend by mentioning that you had 1200 at yours.”

Culture Mob:   “Team Appetizer consists of Ugly Chris, Whitney, Paul, Lindsay and Sarah.  Their hosts are the kind of people that shouldn’t be allowed on TV, ie the kind of people that Bravo trades in.  They don’t like bell peppers.  They were thinking of having all the food pink. They think it should be easy to eat.  They are not adventurous.  Basically, they’re auditioning for the Real Housewives of Dallas.  Team Entree consists of He-Cat, Chuy, Heather, Beverly and Nyesha, and their hosts are slightly better than the first team in that at least the husband displays a marginally likable personality.  The wife should be punched in the neck.  Team Dessert is Beautiful Chris, Ed, Grayson and Dakota and they definitely got the hosts with the most personality.  Unfortunately, that personality is being displayed with statements like “I’m obsessed with bananas” and ‘My wedding cake was a giant gummi bear.’  I can’t waste time hating on the chefs when these people are around.  They’re awful.”

Los Angeles Times: “The hook of Wednesday’s “Top Chef: Texas” was catering a progressive dinner party, but given the flat-as-a-pancake palettes of its Dallas diners, it should have been called a regressive night out. If any more proof was needed that money can’t buy you taste, the well-heeled hosts for the cooking competition’s three-stop dinner party (appetizers, main courses, desserts) proved at every stop that they might be happier eating at a local Black Angus. One host, who considers herself an expert in entertaining, admitted she doesn’t like to try anything new. Another said his favorite dessert involved gummy bears. Another disparaged a beautiful dessert by saying it looked like Elmo. And another mistook a red wine reduction for blood. They then capped the dinner party with a classic after-dinner drink — margaritas!”

Houston Chronicle: “The rest of the show appeared to a decidedly fancier demographic (though perhaps not the most sophisticated palates in all of Texas). The chefs crashed the kitchen’s of Dallas’ 1 percent in Highland Park, where they had to impress a group of rich diners without scaring them away with ingredients they refuse, like cilantro, bell peppers and garlic. Seriously.”

Sisters Kim Schlegel Whitman and Kari Schlegel Kloewer hosted two-thirds of a “progressive dinner.” I’ll leave the food talk to SideDish, except to say that the “gummy bear” that Court and Kameron Westcott (They hosted the dessert portion of the dinner. Kameron was one of our 10 Most Beautiful Women in 2009) said they had at their wedding sounds truly disgusting. And the Top Chef judges were taken aback when they heard that Kari’s wedding had 700 guests and Kim’s wedding had 1,200 guests. They thought the ladies were joking.

Never heard of the Schlegels? Umm, have you never visited this website before?

Wondering where they got all that money? Here’s how.

When I told my friend Rhonda about the VIP invite to a fancy Medieval Times premiere, she said, “‘Tis most splendid,’” and we jumped into my Toyota Avalon (which, incidentally, dates back to the days of yore) and headed down I-35. The whole VIP thing was called into question almost immediately when the lord working the front desk couldn’t locate my name on his scroll. After spelling my name three times, he gave up, wrote down our names, handed us some blue crowns, shoved us into a picture with a princess, and sent us on our way.

Here’s where things get weird. Our fellow VIPs—and there were hundreds of them milling about—were dressed up. Very dressed up. Like Hollywood premiere dressed up. Men were rocking suits; ladies were dressed in formals. We saw a lady in full armor and a few kids—but on the whole, this was a group of adults dressed for an evening on the town. The Woodbridge was flowing. Guests posed for red-carpet pictures with employees. And the jousting started early as everyone jockeyed for free stuff (cheese cubes, Beef Wellington, and “dragon throat,” which just turned out to be egg rolls).

Speaking of free, guess what wasn’t? Drinks. Nothing makes you feel less like a VIP than paying $25 for a round of drinks, but we managed.

Drinks in hand, we mixed and mingled, looked at high-priced merchandise ($35 for a “wench” t-shirt seems high), popped into the privy, and checked out ye olde smoking patio. We were pretty busy. But an hour later, even with the cheese and dragon throat, we were like, “Huzzah! We’re pretty hungry! Let’s get the show on the road!”

Finally, by 7:45 p.m., we were seated at our table of fellow blue VIPs in the Casa Valiente section. Between sips of Michelob Ultra, the gentleman next to me told me he was there because his girlfriend works for the CVB. “There are a lot of people from the CVB here,” he explained. Nothing says “VIP” like “CVB,” apparently. Whatever the case, the place was certainly not full—but it was pretty packed.

Our assigned server Bill introduced himself and gave his spiel in an accent that spanned British to Southeast Texas. I wanted to interrupt him with, “I bid you, an ale, sir!” Luckily, Rhonda reminded me that only moat water (tea) and dragon’s spit (Pepsi) were free and that I would have to wait for a different waiter for adult beverages.

A word about that: you know how at most bars, you order a drink, the service provider comes back with the drink, and then asks you to pay? Yeah, not at Medieval Times. I don’t know if people are walking the check or saying, “I have naught,” after the dude comes back with the drinks, but whatever the case, you will pay upfront.

Anyway, the rest of the night was pretty much fine. The tomato soup, rib, chicken, potatoes, and apple pie were pretty much as I remembered. The bread was different. The rib was apparently larger. But for the most part, everything was pretty much the same. We still ate with our hands. While I’m sure the script and music changed, the premise remains the same. There’s a king and a princess. Guys on horses fight one another. The dude with the falcon comes out, and the falcon does his figure-eight routine. Players die. A guy with long hair wins.  Or, as the press release pointed out, “The live show will still feature two- and four-legged performers with a utensil-free meal serviced in a castle-inspired arena.”

All of which is to say: it’s still awesome.

The new performance officially starts tonight. Go to medievaltimes.com for tickets.

“I am offering to prepare, and/or pay for, all of the last-meal requests from this day forward,” he told the Associated Press. “Taxpayers will be out nothing.”

The state politely declined his offer.

The Coppell-based pizza chain should generate plenty of work for Publicis, given that CiCi’s CEO Mike Shumsky told me last year that his company has identified 73 markets nationwide in which its low-cost buffet restaurants would work, and that they hope to add 500 new units during the next eight to 10 years.

Dallas-based Richards Group was also reportedly in the running for the account. CiCi’s was looking for a new agency after bringing in a new chief marketing officer last year. As Stan Richards, principal of the Richards Group, recently told me (when we were discussing other matters): “Anytime the CMO changes, the agency is in jeopardy.”

A new CMO likes to signal a new direction right away, which usually means a new ad agency. Richards said he wasn’t surprised when his own firm lost Red Lobster as a client last year, after that restaurant chain hired a new CMO. ”It’s one of the hazards of the industry. The average life of a CMO is under two years, so it’s a constant issue,” Richards says.

I’m sure then that Publicis hopes CiCi’s remains happy with its CMO. And that they can keep the company’s penny-pinching target customer happier than this guy.

UPDATE (11:58): You can’t buy a copy of the magazine at the Haters Party. You’ll have to bring one with you.