Tagged: food

One Friday Lunch Thought

Did anyone else notice how fast Crumbl pivoted? They storm into the nicest parts of town (or sides of the street) with some of the best cookies ever—but it turns out you have to take a lunch break while eating them. So now they have mini-cookies.

And these are cookie-sized.

New questions which are fascinating to consider include:

  1. How did they not know about the size issue?
  2. Did they have any data that suggested they would have been unsuccessful starting with normal size cookie?
  3. Would they change their initial strategy if they had to do it all over again?

Whatever the answers, I need to say: “Please don’t ever pivot on flavor! They’re wonderful!”

On the Perfection of the Bite of EMB

When the entire topping comes off the dough at once, the flavor is out of balance.

But let me be clear: when you bite into a slice of Little Caesar’s Extra Most Bestest Pepperoni and the sauce temp and amount is not so hot or plentiful as to give caution to the maneuver, I’m talking about the act of cleanly biting off a piece from the pizza slice, you are nearer heavenly rhapsodies than even the inspired writers of scripture could express in words.

In a word, it is perfection.

Quit Complaining About the Eggs

Quit complaining about the price of eggs.

How, you ask? Easy. Eat steak.

Now that the prices are comparable, I have been eating 1/2 petite sirloin steaks—perfecting a cast iron pan fry—for breakfast as the rest of the country questions themselves into lunacy.

And I like it! Who wants eggs, when you can eat steak?

I, 18CT Colorado Eggs vs. I, Government Commisioner

I am a 18CT Colorado Eggs—the ordinary packaged 18CT Colorado Eggs familiar to all boys and girls and adults who can open their refrigerator door.

I am a Government Commissioner—the ordinary imbecile Government Commissioner familiar to all boys and girls and adults who have come to expect nothing of value from any government official because of their ignominious utterances like the above idea that any economic experience is the result of only one factor.

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No pencils were harmed in the production of this post. But I can confirm with special and satisfactory delight that three chickens died to make this post possible.

Moms and Dads of School Children: Buy Their Lunch

It’s immoral to accept free lunch.

Reader: no one, not one person who genuinely needs charity will ever read this blog post. So calm down.

And then call the school and inform them they are not to serve your child(ren) lunch unless your child(ren) pay (or what is equivalent, you have set up the lunch account and it has money in it).

I am calling the school now. I will report back with how the conversation went.

Little Hands, Little Burritos, Big Memories

I needed some canisters for flour, sugar, brown sugar, and chocolate chips, and I have such fond memories of such ingredients coming from yellow Tupperware of the 1970s and 80s, that I thought, “Why not search for some ‘vintage’ canisters on Ebay? I bet they’d be in great condition and cheaper than new, flimsy versions to boot.”

I was right.

And like any search, I quickly detoured onto a search for another item—the yellow Tupperware drinking cups we used to have when growing up. All throughout my suburban childhood, one of these cups sat eternally beside the faucet as the “water cup.” All the family drank water from the faucet from this one cup. That seems bizarre and uncouth today (not to mention like the opening scenes of the next deadly pandemic), but the five of us did it for 15+ years.

And I found them, too. And ordered them.

Let me tell you that the experience of holding them again was priceless. Memory is usually faulty, but these cups felt more familiar than old t-shirts and jeans.

To be clear, they make excellent cups for young kids. To start, they are indestructible. The cups I now hold are at least 30 years old and do not have any distinguishing marks on them, nor would anyone guess they were not brand new—let alone 30+ years old. Beyond indestructibility, there are two other features that lead to their appeal for kids’/family use. Firstly, they have a subtle texture which allows for easy gripping. Secondly, while 12 oz cups, they are narrow enough for a 3 year old to confidently grasp with a single hand. Maybe it is only because the previous cups we had my 3 year old on were smooth and wider, but these vintage cups truly seem a godsend.

Abruptly changing items, but not themes, what is not a godsend is the shrinkage of Chipotle burritos. Am I the only one who has always thought these Colorado burritos were huge—essentially too much for one meal? I mean it takes at least two hands, and arms, to raise the things. But we all went back for them again and again, partly because the $10 price seemed like a steal for such an abundant meal.

Skip to the end; the other night I grabbed one after a couple month hiatus and it seemed like my same 3 year old could grasp the thing with one hand. I appreciate an inexpensive dinner as much as anyone, but I would’ve rather been seen switching from debit to credit card by the general public at the unexpectedly higher total than have the other option unfold, which did occur, having arrived home, ate, and still been hungry. Bummer.

Oh, and US military aircraft were shooting Iranian weapons headed for Israel out of the sky.

WW3 Diary Entry 3

This one counts, if only indirectly.

Had my second ever Aldi shopping experience today. The war (not to mention what they call “co-insurance” but what is meaningfully “let’s-get-you-to-your-out-of-pocket-max-asap”) has got me especially cost-conscious these days.

In any case, Aldi is not terrible. But it is weird. From the “get back your quarter” grocery cart pseudo-rental, to no bags and bare shelves, not to mention the regulars who unceremoniously move parts of the store around in a way that is not approved at typical grocery stores, it gets the job done.

“It gets the job done”, I say. But it carries a “homeschool” quality. Hear me? Like, I know you read books and learned math, but why don’t you talk right? You like watching moving pictures? You know George Washington’s horse’s name? You finished calculus in 8th grade?

Oh well. If it keeps us out of the poor house during the war, then I guess I can hang out at this place more often. They did have quite a selection of Little Debbie cakes, on and off brand.