Stating the obvious

Conversation the other night at Elephant Bar:

Me: Ugh! There are onions on this bruschetta! Gross! Why would they want to ruin perfectly good bruschetta by smothering it with onions? *starts picking off the offending onions*

Brett: Instead of picking them off, why don't you just give it a try?

Me: Uhhhh... because I don't like onions.


Aaaaand... scene.

Waste not

I was sitting at the drive-thru window at Burger King yesterday, waiting for my Whopper Jr. (with cheese, no onions) and I noticed that I could see a sign on the wall which was clearly intended only to be viewed by employees. In angry, bold letters it proclaimed:

"EXCESSIVE USE OR WASTE OF THE FOLLOWING ITEMS WILL COST YOU YOUR RAISE!"

Underneath the message there were pictures of supplies and condiments which would normally be given to the customer with a drive-thru order.

Ketchup packet = 5 cents
Napkins = 5 cents
Salt = 5 cents
Straws = 5 cents
Sporks = 5 cents
Dipping sauce = 10 cents
Salad dressing = 10 cents

Clearly, this particular Burger King is trying to cut out some unnecessary expenses. I mentally applauded their efforts, especially since time and time again I have been given enough napkins to wipe the faces of a family of ten or 27 ketchup packets after telling them I did not need ketchup for my fries. (Is it so unthinkable that someone might want ZERO ketchup for their jumbo-size order of fries?)

Threatening employee raises seemed a little extreme to me, but desperate times and all that, so whatever works, I guess.

I had to laugh, though, at what I found in the bottom of my bag when I got back to the office...

Two straws.

Yes, we have no bananas

There a charming little fruit stand on the corner near where Brett's parents live. The summer crops have arrived and a variety of hand-lettered signs advertise the fruits that are available for sale.

FRESH CHERRIES (sounds delish!)

JUICY STRAWBERRIES (I love strawberries... especially the juicy ones!)

RIPE PEACHES (Mmmmm... peaches!)

But my favorite?

NICE MELONS

Well, thank you for noticing!

Subliminal messaging

My excellent sister-in law recently commented that she is particularly vulnerable to suggestions about food. She read something about hummus and all of a sudden she had to have hummus. She thought about it all day. She even had a dream about it and woke up ravenous for hummus.

I wondered if her suggestibility might carry over to others things as well, so I wrote to her:

"I think have this is pizza a very delivered interesting to Andrea’s house topic."

You know, just to see what would happen.

Dude, I'm not kidding. Yesterday, there was a fresh hot pizza waiting for me when I got home.

Awesome.

So, I just wanted to give a I really big thanks to Shauna and Jesse like for their kindness and Coldstone generosity because but I'm not sure that seriously if they made my deliver day.

If you are not related to them, you should be jealous.

Desert or dessert

One of the checkout coupons I received during my last trip to the supermarket was for $1.50 off the new whole-grain pop-tarts. Don't get me wrong, whole-grain pop-tarts do not sound appetizing to me at all, but when they went on sale, I couldn't pass up such a great deal. (It was 50 cents for the whole box, after the sale and the coupon.)

I figured it was possible that they tasted better than the picture on the box made them look. After all, we sometimes buy whole grain bread that is almost exactly like white bread. Amazing? Yes. True? Pretty much.

I opened the first foil package of whole-grain pop-tarts yesterday and eyed the contents suspiciously. It was just as unappetizing-looking as I thought it would be. I broke off a corner and gave it an experimental nibble.

Let's be honest. Pop-tarts tend to be a little on the dry side, especially if eaten uncooked, as I generally do. And, one would think that maybe, just maybe, a whole-grain product might be just a teensy bit more dry than the non-whole-grain version of the same product. One might also think that, in anticipation of this phenomenon, steps might be taken to mask or alleviate the dryness. On a pop-tart these steps might include adding more strawberry filling or perhaps more icing.

But no, the makers of these pop-tarts opted to use LESS filling and LESS icing. There's just a drizzle of icing. There's just a dab of filling.

I could understand this if the pop-tarts were being actively marketed as "reduced-sugar" or "low fat," but they're not. They are simply marketed as "Whole-grain, natural goodness."

And they are simply awful. I almost had to drink my first glass of milk in 20 years, just to choke it down. So, if anyone wants a free whole-grain pop-tart, let me know. I have 6 more here in my desk for you.

Where girls grow strong

When I was at the supermarket the other day, the Girl Scouts had their booth set up outside trying to fop off all the rejected boxes of cookies on the unsuspecting public. I didn't stop to browse, because they never have Samoas at the reject cookie booth and there's never a discount because the cookies are rejects and I have a problem paying $17 for a box which contains approximately 1.2 ounces of cookie and 14 ounces of packaging material.

But that's beside the point.

When I came out of the store, the girls were still there trying to hock their second-hand wares, but this time, this time... they were actually dressed as Girl Scout cookies. They were not just in the familiar brown and green uniform garb. They were actually wearing cookie costumes, flailing their little arms about with glee, doing their best to imitate the actual behavior of a Girl Scout cookie.

And now I could finally answer Wednesday Addams in all honesty, "Yes, dear they DO have real Girl Scouts in them."

Full disclosure

In the interest of full disclosure, I have to add to this post that I also do not care for eggs that are undercooked. And by undercooked I refer to any part of the egg that might look runny, slimy, shiny, or mushy. I wouldn't think it would be possible to undercook scrambled eggs, but I see it all the time at breakfast buffets. I usually have to put mine in the microwave.

P.S. I would usually use "slimey" and "shiney" but the spell checker says that's incorrect. I'm deferring to a higher power, but "slimy" really really looks wrong to me. Have I been spelling these words wrong MY WHOLE ENITRE LIFE???

The hostess with the mostess

On a related note to the previous post:

When hosting guests at my home, if I am dishing up single servings of something (dessert, mixed drinks, etc.) that I intend to hand-deliver to each of my guests individually, I try to ask if they would like whatever it is I am serving.

"Hey Joe, would you like some pie?"

"Susy, I'm making some smoothie. Can I bring you a glass?"

I do this to minimize potential awkward moments for my visitors. If they don't want dessert, they can politely decline right then. No harm no foul. Everyone is polite, everyone is happy.

The alternative is for me to thrust a plate of whatever at them and then what? "Uhhhh, no thanks. I'm on a diet." "WHAT?" "I'm on a diet. Thanks for announcing it to the group."

Or even worse is for them to politely accept and then have to gag it down. "Uh, oh, thanks! Uh, can I have a huge glass of water with this? Just bring a pitcher."

And we've all seen the polite-accepter who then spends the evening dismantling the food and pushing it around to make it look like it's been eaten.

I'm not talking about sitting down to dinner where you can dish up what you want. I'm not talking about bringing a bowl of popcorn to the living room for a group watching a movie. I'm talking about, "Here you go. Here's your food that I am assuming you want and giving you no choice about."

I've had some bad experiences with this, so my opinion is admittedly biased. I've regretted being rude and declining food that was sprung on me in this fashion. I've politely eaten food that made my stomach churn. What do you think? Is it common courtesy for a host or hostess to check with their guests before serving? Or does the entire responsibility fall on the guest to be polite and eat what is served?

Discuss.

I like pizza...I like it!

Pizza is my absolute favorite food. When I eat it, colors seem brighter, the air smells fresher, and wherever I go small forest animals gather in pairs and sing to me.

Because Brett can eat more pizza than I can in one sitting, I am forced to be vigilant about how the pizza is divided to make sure that we both get an equal amount, regardless of when it is eaten. From my half of the pizza, I usually save a couple of pieces to take for lunch at the office the next day. These are wrapped in foil and stowed (sometimes hidden) in the fridge with strict instructions to Brett, "Do NOT eat my pizza! Don't eat it now. Don't eat it for a midnight snack. Don't eat it for breakfast. Do not touch."

One morning, my leftover pizza was missing. The foil was in the trash, the dirty plate was in the sink, the pizza was gone. All evidence pointed to someone other than me having a late-night snack. I was crushed. I had been dreaming of that pizza and now I would have to go without.

I called Brett and left a really whiny message on his cellphone which I hoped conveyed the extent of my injury:

"So I guess I'll just go hungry for lunch today. Someone ate my pizza last night. That someone obviously doesn't care about his wife AT ALL. Serious, SERIOUS injury inflicted. I'm going to write it down in my book. Well, if I have the strength. I'm not sure I will since I don't have a lunch to take to work today...because did I mention that SOMEONE AT MY PIZZA..." and on and on and on.

Brett called me later on that day. I couldn't believe he had the nerve to even speak to me. I was sure he was calling to apologize and tell me what a rotten person he was and how he deserved to be dragged into the street and beaten with a stick of pepperoni. Instead, he said:

"You goon-puppy. I didn't eat your pizza."

"I know you did. Just admit it and throw yourself on the mercy of the court. I may be lenient."

"I didn't eat it. You ate it last night before you went to bed."

"Yeah, right. That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard. What kind of an idiot do you think I am? You're saying that I ate my own pizza and can't remem...oooohhhh.....uhhhhh. Oops, I did eat it myself. I forgot. Never mind. Sorry."

"Dork."

"Yup. But I'm your dork."