The produce section of our grocery store has useful descriptions printed on cards above each variety of edible vegetation. For instance, naval oranges are "seedless and easy to eat". Jalapeno peppers are "delicious in salsas", and mangoes are "sweet and pulpy."
Novice that I am in all matters vegetarian, these twitterish descriptions were quite helpful the other night as I ricocheted semi-stochastically from one plant product to the next, warily collecting the (mostly green) items on my shopping list prepared by the wife.
While I may be inexperienced in the ways of cabbages, onions, and serrano chili peppers, I am no stranger to the strange and wonderful bulbousness of garlic. I appreciate a good garlic naan (and hyperbolic vegetable characterization) as much as the next guy, but even I was dubious when I read the description: "can be used in any recipe".
Seems a bold claim: "any recipe". Garlic in salsa? Of course. Pizza sauce? Oh yeah. Fruit salad? Perhaps. Chili? Why not? Sure, garlic can be used in "any recipe" in the strictest sense of the description, but I'm betting 2-1 against this anti-vampiric being a welcome additive to Grandma's lemon fluff dessert or the wife's strawberry pie.
But, as Aunt Josephine was fond of repeating, "To each his[/her] own." Just don't kiss me after enjoying your garlic-spiked lemonade.
Showing posts with label apocryphal descriptions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apocryphal descriptions. Show all posts
Friday, July 10, 2009
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Will blog for food
It has been apocryphally fabled that my first words upon entering this world were: What's for dinner?
It has been non-apocryphally fabled that my first words upon entering the world of matrimony were: What's for dinner?
I have only missed dinner once. I was 5. Presumably, I became distracted by Hot Wheels and bathtime and had not noticed that supper had not been served. My mom put me to bed. I remember laying there, tossing and turning, with the strange, unsettling sensation that something was amiss. My stomach gurgled. Then I felt the pang. I bolted upright and yelled at the top of my lungs, announcing my mother's failure to provide for her child's nutritional needs to all the neighborhood: "MOM! YOU FORGOT TO FEED ME!"
Flash forward 22 years. My wife is in Connecticut where she is completing her pursuit of becoming a Master of Gifted Education. She left the dog and me to fend for ourselves at home.
Thus far, I've found subsistence in the form of Chinese leftovers and Hungry Man microwave tv dinners.
I've finished the Chinese food and have only 1 Hungry Man meal left and 10 days until Lisa comes home. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when the Hungry Men run out. I fear we'll be reduced to animals.
Scrounge for crumbs, I guess. Maybe share Watson's kibble. Pop over at the neighbors' at dinner time...
Perhaps the good Lord will send some (hungry) manna from heaven.
Lisa... come home soon... you forgot to feed me.
Originally Posted: Tuesday, June 27, 2007
(Then) Curent Mood: soon to be hungry, i fear
http://blog.myspace.com/yajeev
It has been non-apocryphally fabled that my first words upon entering the world of matrimony were: What's for dinner?
I have only missed dinner once. I was 5. Presumably, I became distracted by Hot Wheels and bathtime and had not noticed that supper had not been served. My mom put me to bed. I remember laying there, tossing and turning, with the strange, unsettling sensation that something was amiss. My stomach gurgled. Then I felt the pang. I bolted upright and yelled at the top of my lungs, announcing my mother's failure to provide for her child's nutritional needs to all the neighborhood: "MOM! YOU FORGOT TO FEED ME!"
Flash forward 22 years. My wife is in Connecticut where she is completing her pursuit of becoming a Master of Gifted Education. She left the dog and me to fend for ourselves at home.
Thus far, I've found subsistence in the form of Chinese leftovers and Hungry Man microwave tv dinners.
I've finished the Chinese food and have only 1 Hungry Man meal left and 10 days until Lisa comes home. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when the Hungry Men run out. I fear we'll be reduced to animals.
Scrounge for crumbs, I guess. Maybe share Watson's kibble. Pop over at the neighbors' at dinner time...
Perhaps the good Lord will send some (hungry) manna from heaven.
Lisa... come home soon... you forgot to feed me.
Originally Posted: Tuesday, June 27, 2007
(Then) Curent Mood: soon to be hungry, i fear
http://blog.myspace.com/yajeev
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