Okay, in hindsight, it was beyond-silly-and-very-close-to-bordering-on-OMGeeeee-how-ridiculous on the table decor scale. In my mind, (at the moment I did it) it was a cute, yet subtle pun that I put on that tag on the bread. I mean, at first glance you might not even really notice what it says. I thought it was clever though, (apparently...at that moment in time...) and was clearly cooking in downtown Traceyville last night.
Of course, I had forgotten the cardinal rule in entertaining, table setting, and life in general, which would be, "know your audience." My bewildered Rock n' Roll Buddy sat down at the table and looked at the bread. He looked at his salad, and then back at the bread. He took a moment to try and find his words to phrase his question to me in a way that would be politically correct, and not incite any hurt feelings or land him in the proverbial dog house. He took a breath and then asked me (in as casual a tone as he could muster up...) if the bread was just on the table for looks, or was it okay for us to eat it.
Oh, well... You know what "they" say: You can't hit a home run every time. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take. The biggest mistake you could ever make is being to afraid to ever make one. Nothing ventured, nothing...well, you get it.
Traceyville or not, I think I might have gone just a skosh too far, even for me, heh heh.