Archive for Worth a Fork

And a pinked crustacean

Walmart makes a lot of noise about “rollbacks,” prices that used to be higher. This is apparently not a rollback:

Lobster tail at Walmart for slightly under fourteen dollars

Roll side, maybe?

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There is only Zuul

Now suppose Zuul likes cheese:

I mean, who’s gonna tell him he doesn’t?

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Memorializing the Greatest Thing

You’ve even had some yourself, haven’t you?

Missouri lawmakers are considering whether to mark an official day to celebrate sliced bread.

A bill pending in the state House would designate July 7 as Missouri Sliced Bread Day. Supporters say the day is needed to promote tourism in the northern Missouri city of Chillicothe, where the first commercially sliced bread was sold on July 7, 1928.

The city of roughly 9,500 people touts its carb-filled history and holds a Sliced Bread Jam Bluegrass Festival every year as part of celebrations.

“What are we, chopped liver?” protested Noshville Katz.

(Via Bayou Renaissance Man.)


Defeating the whole purpose

Of course, I think Rocky Road is sort of exotic, so maybe I shouldn’t say anything about this stuff from Scotland:

A cafe is dishing out scoops of the world’s most dangerous ice cream — which is so hot that customers need to sign a disclaimer.

How … hot … is it?

The Aldwych Café and ice cream parlor launched a Valentine’s Day ice cream special called “Respiro Del Diavolo” (Breath of the Devil).

But the frozen treat is so spicy that customers must be 18 years of age or older and sign a legal waiver before it is handed over the counter. Words in the disclaimer mention having the ice cream “could be a risk of personal injury, illness and possible loss of life.” And staff at the cafe even need to wear gloves when they dish out scoops.

Scoville heat units: 1,569,300. When it melts, you could use it to help remove that rusty muffler on your ’87 Oldsmobile.

(Via Bayou Renaissance Man.)

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Wearing a trefoil hat

Gerard VanderLeun can hear a box of Thin Mints calling him:

Who let them out? Why are they everywhere? On the corners, by the entrances to supermarkets, at the crossings, and all over the place. They swoop into the neighborhood in massive SUVs driven by classic MILFs. They pull in, tumble out giggling, and yank their card tables and their boxes of contraband from the back. Then they set up their offerings in stacks, and slap crude handmade signs with a heavy helping of glitter on the tables. Then they don their gang colors and get to work on you.

They are the most ruthless retail agents known to man. They are virtually irresistible in their peddling of their wares. They do it with cutting edge cute, and they have no scruples concerning your desperate attempt to diet away the winter flab.

They are the Girl Scouts and no matter how I try I cannot avoid them.

How many Brownies will fit into a Chevrolet Suburban? (The answer is left as an exercise for the student.)

On the off-chance that you’re interested, here’s a story from ten years ago, in which a first-timer is turned loose to knock on doors.

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Et tu, maybe three, myself

Twenty locations within the Philippine province of Cebu, the first of which opened in 1980.

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Jumpin’ Jiminy

Don Bugito has crickets for you:

Insect products by Don Bugito

They also sell non-cricket species, the Superworm (Zophobas morio) and the occasional mealworm (Tenebrio molitor).

The Spicy Bugito warrants mention here:

Spicy Bugitos are fully toasted mealworms tossed with ancient Peruvian cancha corn and an array of deliciously fun tangy spices. This fierce superfood has a kick of spice that will start a healthy farmed fiesta in your mouth with loads of protein to boot.

All of Don Bugito’s superworms come from a farm dedicated to raising the highest quality insects for human consumption. Superworms are farmed and raised with a natural diet of bran and carrots.

The usual warnings about shellfish allergies apply.

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Feed deep, they’re gathering food

Just let this one slide by:

(Thanks to Jeff Faria.)

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Ceci n’est pas un beefsteak

Um, not anymore they’re not:

Behold the power of Twitter.

Less than two days after Marks and Spencer made headlines for selling a £2.00 slice of “cauliflower steak,” the high street retailer has announced it will scrap the convenience food item.

It consisted of two slices of cauliflower and a lemon and herb dressing, but will be discontinued once current stocks are sold.

Said the Fark submitter, simply: “Your dog does not want this steak.”

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Get your paws off that labeler

And don’t bring them back until you learn some Basic Anatomy:

Chicken feet, mislabeled

Those are not chicken paws.

And neither is this:

(Photo from Phoebe’s Instagram.)


Inverse catering

And now, the continuing adventures of Florida Man in “I’ll take that to go”:

A Florida man with a feast stuffed in his pants was arrested trying to sneak out of a grocery store, police said.

Maeli Alvarez-Aguilar, 26, was taken into custody on a petty merchant theft charge after walking out of the Rines Market IGA store in Indiantown on Dec. 15, the Martin County Sheriff’s Office told Fox News on Tuesday.

An arrest affidavit viewed by said Alvarez-Aguilar “removed a full rack of ribs from his waistband.”

A further search uncovered nine pieces of fried chicken, two packs of hamburger buns and some mashed potatoes, and police said Aguilar-Alvarez — who smelled of booze and was intoxicated — swiped the items from the store.

Probably a good thing he was in Florida. A Californian swiping the same items would also be charged with not taking any vegetables.

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And a glass of Tang

Greatness has its imperatives:

(Via Rand Simberg.)

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Fries with that

And I mean large fries, in one dimension anyway:

I’d also like to know whose idea it was to produce a 90-second video out of maybe 20 seconds of actual footage.

(Via Fark.)


What’s pasta is past

This was just too silly not to pass along:

Oh, she’s back from Italy. I imagine we’ll hear what she’s been up to tomorrow.

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Positive design

Of course, that’s the passenger side, but one must not be distracted while one drives:

Auto armrest designed for Whataburger fries and ketchup

I note in passing that the larger of Gwendolyn’s two cupholders will hold a large Whataburger cup in a state of amazing snugness.

(Via Texas Humor on Facebook.)


Unribbed for my annoyance

Near the eastern terminus of the Northwest Distressway, there sits a McDonald’s, and yesterday they had an electronic sign reading simply “McRib!”

I was three lanes away when I saw it, and decided I would proceed toward another location, near Ted’s on May. Now May at the afternoon rush is about as bad as the Distressway, squeezed into fewer lanes, so getting there was going to be half the fun.

No crowd yet — they have twin drive-in lanes, and there was no traffic in either — but the magic word was not in evidence. I decided to feign innocence: “Has the McRib arrived yet?” The fourteen-year-old at the window, or so he sounded, solemnly assured me that it had not.

But I was calm, I was cool, and when the young lady at the second window collected a $20 from me, I managed to fumble away almost the entirety of my $12ish change. I did not actually swear until I got back to the edge of the parking lot, and then I held it back: making the right turn required waiting for no oncoming traffic. (I am not insane enough to try to make a left turn at 5:10 pm.) I accepted this as the universe’s apology.

Update, 5:15 pm: McRib obtained, and at a slightly lower price than I expected.

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This bud’s for me

Tierra Farm, out of Valatie, New York, has been a supplier to my pantry for several years, though it’s been a while since we did any business. Last week, they sent out a sale bulletin, and if there’s anything I like better than organic dried fruit, it’s organic dried fruit for 15 percent off. I ordered three varieties over the weekend, and had them ship it to the workplace, a much safer location for foodstuffs than my front porch.

Came Wednesday. Came the UPS truck. The phone rang. The receptionist was almost giggling as she informed me that I had a package.

By the time I’d rolled my way to her desk, “almost” was no longer an attribute. “Is this what I think it is?”

No, what do you think it is?

“Well, this big ORGANIC label on the case, and it’s from Colorado. What do you think I think it is?”

Agricultural products from Colorado? Why … oh. I looked at the shipping label, and while the usual 518 phone number appeared on the sticker, apparently this package came in from Aurora, east of Denver.

Don’t you think, if I were ordering something of questionable legality, I’d have enough sense not to have it shipped here?

And then out loud I said, “It’s only six pounds.” Definitely the wrong thing to have said. And for the rest of the workday, I left the box on its side, not that it’s going to help the contents, but it did conceal the labels.

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Careful with those candles

Remember that little four-year-old girl who did all those household tasks on YouTube?

Well, the truth is now known: she was three years old. And she wound up baking her own birthday cake for Number Four:

In this realm, she’s about as neat as most four-year-olds, which is to say Not Very.

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By the bucketful

I really, truly didn’t want to see this happen:

A tiny Japanese woman has put her own spin on the Thanksgiving gorge-fest by wolfing down more than 10,000 calories worth of McDonald’s.

Yuka Kinoshita, 32, sat down with five burgers, three large fries and a staggering 23 desserts with three large Cokes to wash them all down.

She gives a running commentary of the feast, which was 10,642 calories in total, and despite struggling slightly after her fourth hamburger, she valiantly finished the feast.

Back in the day, I would occasionally do some binge eating. Never Mickey D’s, though. Fool that I am, I began wondering: “What if … “?

I don’t think I ever could have done even half that much.

Word on the street is that 20 kg of ramen utterly thwarted her. I would think 45 pounds of anything would thwart just about anyone.

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Next year we do this right

Or at least, we don’t do so much damned work for the holiday:

Because a mere TV dinner isn’t enough.


Part of your Home Loneliness Kit

This was, says Miss Cellania, the saddest thing in the grocery store:

Holiday Turkey Dinner for One

On the upside, if this is the extent of your Thanksgiving dinner, at least you’ll be spared noxious nonsense like this:

In a normal household, Chuckie, “that family member who always talks politics” got disinvited during the Bush administration, and I don’t mean George W. Bush either.

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T’ain’t funny, McD

Debuting in 1948 at the eatery owned by Dick and Mac McDonald:

“The Speedee Service System applied the principles of production line manufacture to fast food, and formed the foundation of what Ray Kroc would later leverage to create the world’s largest food outlet chain, and epitomise the Business Format Franchise Model.”

What the System was like, two decades and change later:

Day 1: I started “dressing buns,” that is, applying mustard and ketchup and pickles to the hamburger buns and from there, every 6 weeks, I rotated to another department, french fries, grill, milk shakes, etc., and after I had mastered every one of them I reached the honorable and greatly sought position of working on the counter, taking orders, using the cash register. WOW! It was not until AFTER I learned the entire system was I allowed to step right up front and represent the whole company to the public at large. (now, they stick the ugliest and stupidest people on the counter and just taking your order, with every convenience in the world, is almost more than they can muster — true genetic defects — individual and corporate)

Yep, each order — and there were hundreds each day, was written down in detail in little “ticket books” and get this, less than 60 seconds later the customer received their HOT order. The cash register was the old skool type where you had to type in the prices of each item and then hit the “Total” button that then printed a small receipt. No colorful pictures on the screen, no automated anything, all of it done by hand, the long way, but very fast and very efficient.

In 1970 McDonald’s full menu consisted of: hamburger 19 cents, cheeseburger 24 cents, dbl hamburger 29 cents, dbl cheeseburger 34 cents, big mac 45 cents, fish sandwich 35 cents, french fries 19 cents, coke, root beer, orange, sprite 19 cents small and 24 cents large, milkshakes — choc, van, straw 35 cents, apple pie 19 cents. There ya go, McDonald’s circa 1970 entire menu, complete.

Meanehile, halfway across the country, I was working at a Mickey D’s, and the only thing I remember that was different was that we had even older old-skool registers: we took the orders with an actual pencil, and rang up only the total on the shiny stainless-steel machine.

Oh, and this:

Amazingly, very few people got fired from McDonald’s, everybody was glad to have the opportunity to work. Most that were in my age group simply moved on eventually. Me? After almost year at $1.15 an hour, I graduated from 2 different schools a couple weeks before my 17th birthday and received a job offer from the largest architectural firm in the county so I quit. My new job paid $1.45 to start.

Amazingly, I was getting paid a buck ninety-five to do the same things, mostly because I was able to work flexible schedules: I could close the store one night at 11 and open it the next morning at 9. (This was before McDonald’s reinvented breakfast.)

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Ketchup with the budget

A letter to the editor of the Oklahoman, published yesterday:

I have a simple solution for Oklahoma’s budget crisis. If we were to add a dime tax to every order of french fries sold in Oklahoma per day, no one would notice! Tax dollars raised would cover teacher pay, DHS, law enforcement, fire, construction and everything else we need to fund. Obesity kills many more Oklahomans than smoking does. Oklahomans will quit smoking, but they will never give up french fries.

Scott Uselton, Edmond

Does this include hash browns? Tater Tots? For Heinz’ sake, man, we need details!

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Bring more napkins

So this crossed my path:

Looks sort of like a chocolated version of Rice Krispies Treats, and with good reason.

She sent me a link to a recipe, which I pass on to you.

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Bring napkins

An acquaintance of mine is in Paris this week, but I can’t imagine her stopping by this place:

Paris has opened its first-ever naked restaurant where diners can dig into their food while completely naked.

The aptly named O’Naturel restaurant is located in the French capital’s 12th arrondissement, on Rue de Gravelle, and had its grand opening this past Thursday. There is space at the restaurant for up to 40 diners, with meals starting at around €30.

Upon entrance, guests are asked to remove all their clothes and leave them in the restaurant’s wardrobes.

And no, passersby won’t see them through the windows:

“We don’t see anything from the street. We know what’s happening. It’s not a massage parlour.”

I’m pretty sure I could deal with something like this, but I don’t anticipate getting the opportunity. For now, I order takeout and (un)dress accordingly.

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This truly takes guts

Stahlys Vegetarian HaggisNot real guts, of course:

Made with a blend of oatmeal, mixed vegetables and spices, Stahly Vegetarian Skinless Haggis is perfect for vegetarian and vegans as a quick, tasty meal any time of year and as a tasty alternative for Burns Night with your friends.

Like all the Stahly haggis range, it is made in Scotland and canned “whole” within a synthetic skin. The haggis, therefore, presents itself as a traditional product with the convenience of a long shelf life, no need for refrigeration and it is easily transported.

I’m trying to imagine a prepper filling up a cabinet with this stuff. At £6.45, it doesn’t seem all that expensive.

Serve in the traditional way with haggis, neeps and tatties or choose one of these tasty dishes.

“Neeps and tatties”?

“Neeps and tatties.”

(Via Finestkind clinic and fish market.)

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The refrigerated dairy case must be busted

That’s probably the least painful explanation for this:

Ad for Velveeta juice

Either that, or this is some awfully Krafty marketing.

(From Bad Newspaper via Miss Cellania.)

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Mutton doing

From the Repository of Reasonable Questions:

In mere minutes came the Definitive Answer:

Yeah, that would do it.

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Utensil strength

The Japanese apparently care about this very much:

While certain cultures may equate the sound of noodles and moisture violently sucked between a pair of lips with, say, nails on a chalkboard or a wet dog farting, in Japan it is as commonplace as politicians shouting through megaphones in the middle of the street.

Which is not a Good Thing, as far as the Japanese are concerned.

Inevitably, there would come to be a de-slurping device:

It’s like those pricey noise-canceling headphones, only, um, yummier.

(Via American Digest.)

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Overly refried

Yet another mysterious item from the Walmart online-grocery machine:

Rosarito Spicy Jalapeno Refried Beans

Maybe they should have stopped at just “Fried.”

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