Aunt Becky as a Foodie
Now if you know anything about me, you’ll know that I am decidedly not a foodie. If it’s not prepackaged, I don’t want to eat it. I’m the first to admit I have “food issues” and the second to ask you for an Uncrustable. I probably have scurvy. Thank the Good Lord of Butter I take my (expired) vitamins.
But I’ve occasionally been out to those restaurants that add a zillion ingredients – all with many descriptive terms – to their menu.
And I’ve decided that in lieu of blogging as a career, mayhap I should go into writing descriptions for Foodie Food.
Let’s try this and see how I do.
I’ll start with a diner hamburger.
“The moist, succulent quality of the 100% Angus beef is fried in the fat of dozens of it’s companions, topped by an onion that was left out for three hours aged onion and a single piece of lightly browned romaine lettuce, with the soft, unresisting paper-thin piece of tomato, cut so delightfully thin to save money because OMG Mexico costs a ton to ship vegetables all atop the soft, and yet firm hamburger bun, dotted perfectly with little pops that are at least 90% sesame seeds. Throw on a dollop of perfectly aged premium generic ketchup and you will never look at a burger (or the toilet) the same way.”
Isn’t your mouth WATERING? Mine is. But that may be nausea, not hunger. I can’t tell.
Next, an Old American Favorite, Split Pea Soup:
“As it arrived at the table, I’m struck first by the smell as it approaches. That vaguely earthy smell of mashed up legumes that puts me in mind of spoon feeding a baby. My first baby. He taught me to never try that again, by projectile vomiting the strained peas back as fast as I could get them to his mouth.
I’m reminded of the Exorcist as I suddenly lose my appetite. As it is set before me, I’m lost, staring into the thick, murky mire of the soup. It’s consistency reminds me vaguely of drywall putty, or perhaps of that stuff that people use to polish brass. How does one describe perfection except to say that you know it when you’ve found it?
And this? Was perfectly abominable.
From the earthy taste of the peas, to the dried pieces of cilantro that were used as a “garnish,” this was a hot mess, from back to front.”
Wait.
That wasn’t right. I was supposed to make you WANT it. Not think of The Exorcist.
Guess you’ll have to keep Your Aunt Becky around after all, Pranksters.
Aunt Becky, I’m with you all the way. I’ll take a two-pack of fresh Ho-Ho’s over a Creme brulee anyday. *burp*
I eat what tastes good. If it happens to be high quality food? I probably didn’t pay for it.
I loved this! Hilarious. Oh wait, it’s not supposed to be funny. I’m so sorry. Ok, well then, I have no words. No, really, none xo
My friend used to praise the Good Lord of Butter in high school. I am not kidding. He held services his pulpit the table in the cafeteria. He even made a bible— comic book. 🙂 It was pretty awesome. Also remind me not to go to the diner where you got your hamburger..
Who eats Split Pea Soup? Please tell me only the debilitated.
Not only do I eat it… I make it myself.
With a real ham bone and everything…
[i]…runs and hides…[/i]
I have to admit I’m a Foodie wanna be. I can’t really afford it but, when I cook, I tend to experiment.
Funny post.
I still cling tightly to my childhood dream of being the person who writes those descriptions.
That, or the person who comes up with names for colors of nail polish.
Prepackaged only because of convenience or taste or both?
George Carlin has a book titles “Brain Droppings” that has an entire chapter devoted to making fun of ridiculous foods and their descriptions, you would love it!
mmmm…
Can I have a hangaber and some soup?
Green soup?
Thank you.
How could that description not make me want some pea soup? That sounds completely fucking fantastic.
Very funny. I do have a recipe my Mom made and I make for my family, yes they love it now, but not at first. It is homemade pea soup with curry powder and HOT DOGS!!! It is truly great believe it or not, it is a Canadian thing, what can I say. It is addictive.
Catherine
Imma have to request that you NEVER try to describe any type of food again that doesn’t come inside of a shrink wrapped package.
This could be a horror movie.
I just vomited up the pea soup I had for dinner. Thanks a lot. >:(
(heh heh heh)
You just reinforced my love for microwave pizza and pop tarts.
I loved your pea soup description. My treatment facillity was only a little over an hour or so from the original Pea Soup Anderson’s Restaurant. i ate there once with my parents, and they were totally, “Alexis, you simply CANNOT eat at Pea Soup Anderson’s Restaurant and NOT try the pea soup!”
My answer was along the lines of, “Yes, I can. Just watch me.” Anyone who has ever seen “The Exorcist” even if only on DVD, has probably been permanently turned off of pea soup.
Being a food blogger this made me laugh my arse off. I love food, love to cook it, love to eat it and amazingly enough love to blog about it.
But I do not like people who patronise with food. Jesus call a spade a spade, it’s a burger!
xXx
I was once asked to write a wine review for an event. They didn’t appreciate “I feel that I could get drunk off of this stuff, can I have another bottle?”
Get your *ss down to Florida and have my husband teach you about good food 😉
I think your calling may be as a diet coach. I can imagine you working hand in hand with Jillian Michaels, scaring the weight right off your captive dieters.
Just watched The Exorcist the other night. Not a chance in hell you’d catch me eating pea soup any time soon and I secretly like the stuff!