Category Archives: Food

Eggs

I eat a lot of eggs.  And I try to buy cage-free, organic ones because that means the chickens are treated more humanely, right?  I wonder what actually constitutes as cage-free and if the quality of life quotient is in reality much higher for those chickens.   I hope it is.  But at the end of the day it’s still about the money for those companies and farms putting those eggs on the shelves, so I don’t know.

I noticed in my avid egg-eating lifestyle that sometimes shells will break really easily.  And the shells that are more brittle are always from the not as fancy cartons.  Which makes me wonder about the health and treatment of the chickens that produced them.

You know how they say that apples are less nutritious now than they were a century or something ago?   I forget why they say that, but I feel like that goes for much of the food on the market now. 

Lately I feel like everything I consume and even do day-to-day is resulting in consequences I’m not even aware of.   Consequences to natural resources and the environment, consequences to my health.  So, what’s going to happen?  How much longer can it all go on?  Salmonella outbreaks, big floods, droughts, species extinctions.  I think we’re doing some things wrong.

And this DeCoster dude scares me:

Top Chef

This is how I cooked my Ellio’s pizza this evening.  Don’t the cupcake pan circles and the pepperoni circles complement each other nicely?

Thursday Free Write

I’m eating a terribly bruised banana.  It’s way too easy to abuse bananas.  I swear.  You leave them alone for five minutes and they’re barely edible.  Just like children.

It’s a beautiful, mild day in New York City, but I’ve spend the majority of it in this dang’ed cubicle.  And wouldn’t you know it, during my 15 minute break, I go outside to catch the last of the day’s sunlight, and a guy soliciting my nonexistent money for a perfectly deserving organization sits down beside me.  Don’t you know, “Matthias” from “Greenpeace”, that I just gave a dollar to that drug addict on the subway the other night?  And he said, “Wow, a real American dollar bill!  I haven’t seen one of these in ages!”  And you expect me to also help do something to protect the environment and promote peace? … I guess that’s reasonable enough.

I went grocery shopping for the first time in weeks the other day and I saw this baffling thing on the shelf:

Who at Pepperidge Farm decided the word “pumpernickel” needed to be shortened to “pump”? And who backed that idea up enough for it to end up on that poor loaf of bread? It’s nothing short of tragic, especially in light of the word’s fascinating and bizarre origins I just found on Dictionary.com: Pumpernickel orig., an opprobrious name for anyone considered disagreeable, equiv. to pumper(n) to break wind + Nickel hypocoristic from of Nikolaus Nicholas (cf. nickel); presumably applied to the bread from its effect on the digestive system .

There’s something pornographic about that phrase, “Dark Pump,” right? I know it’s not just me.

I <3 Barbara Bush and Artificial Flavoring

Today I woke up and I baked cupcakes. The motivation came from wanting to give one to someone I love. But before I did that I was reading status updates on Facebook off of my phone, and someone paid tribute to this forever beautiful and gracious lady:

Barb Bush!!

“At the end of your life, you will never regret not having passed one more test, not winning one more verdict or not closing one more deal. You will regret time not spent with a husband, a friend, a child, or a parent.”

What a broad.

So back to the cupcakes. I prepared a box mix of marble fudge. And it instructs you to pour the fudge mix on afterwards, so it ended up creating some cool designs (because I didn’t try too hard to achieve a marble effect). They’re like the Rorschach Ink Blot Test! What do you see:

P.S. Speaking of box mixes with which to make not nutritious cupcakes, I HIGHLY recommend checking out the first two episodes of “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution.”  He’s completely British and brilliant.

It’s hard to exist.

I’m struggling with existence again. As usual. It’s so lame. And it’s also the least lame thing ever.

An old friend texted me a few minutes ago saying, “I hear you’re some kind of comedian now.” And I texted back, “I’m not sure what I am. What are you these days?”


I was riding the subway on Monday, and I was eating a turkey sandwich. The turkey sandwich part isn’t so important, except that the train was crowded and I was dropping lettuce on myself and I felt sort of bad, but not that bad because the woman sitting next to me was eating an apple.

In an attempt to avoid eye contact with any Q Train passengers who might be watching me eat, I started studying advertisements. One in particular caught my eye. For a few reasons:

1. It was for a book and I like those.

2. The concept for the book turns the author into a whore.

3. I’ve long thought about writing a book just like this. Well, sort of like this:

“Publisher’s Weekly” ascribes this book to the “stunt-blog memoir genre”. There is a gimmicky feel to this genre, but it can be done really well! I don’t care if Oprah plugged it, I really enjoyed Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia. Shit was inspiring. I also enjoyed Danny Wallace’s book Yes Man that inspired the Jim Carrey movie I didn’t see.

But as far as stunt-blog memoirs go, this has gotta be one of the most stunt-bloggy of them all. Maybe I’m just upset I didn’t think of doing it myself. I mean, how can you really go wrong when the backbone of your stunt-blog memoir has these kinds of stats:

IF OPRAH WERE… A NATION her 51.4 million weekly viewers and magazine readers would equal more than the population of Canada (33 million), Spain (40.3 million) or Argentina (39.9 million).

IF OPRAH WERE… A PILE OF GOLD she’d be equal to 24,000 14-karat gold bars.

cnnmoney.com reported in January that Oprah ranked second only to Google as the biggest brand newsmaker of 2006. Behind Ms. Winfrey were Amazon, eBay and iPod.

IF OPRAH WERE… A NATIONAL ECONOMY what she’d pump into the U.S. economy would be slightly more than the GDP of the Bahamas. See more here.


The only thing left to do now, now that I’ve accepted I’ll probably never figure out the big existential questions, is figure out what to spend 365 days of my life doing that I can convince a publishing house will make a memoir and make them money.

Actually, my old friend texted back to tell me what she is these days, and it sounds like the perfect title for a stunt-blog memoir: Nomadic Barista.

Frankie Valli and Overweight Women

Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons were a staple of my childhood, especially between ages 5 and 8. Looking back it seems like they were constantly playing in the car. And my older brothers were constantly complaining about it. About Frankie Valli’s voice in particular.

I didn’t take part in the complaining because his voice didn’t bother me so much as it confused me. I pictured some overweight, homely woman singing when he went really high, and I pictured, well, I guess I pictured someone a lot like Frankie Valli when he sang in his lower register. But that overweight homely woman really, really baffled me! Who was she?! Where did they find someone with such a voice? She was truly an anomaly.

“Big Girls Don’t Cry” made me take pause the most. I didn’t know if I was supposed to take the message to heart. And if I was, I wasn’t sure I was capable of ever being a big girl. This song probably had a lot to do with why I pictured an overweight woman–a big girl–as the person behind the voice.

If you do a Google image search for “overweight homely woman”, this map is the second thing that you’ll find:

Big girls don’t cry (they don’t cry)
Big girls don’t cry (that’s just an alibi)

New Year, Same Auld Blog.

It’s 2010.  You know what that means…

Jake.

A new season of The Bachelor with a man named Jake.  I plan to watch last night’s episode online as soon as I hit the “publish” button on this post.  At which time I will laugh, cringe, cry, and masturbate.

I’ve been incredibly productive this year.  One highlight: I cleaned my room.  I found $20.  So far that money has bought me an egg and cheese sandwich and a coke.  Updates on the remaining $14 to come.

I also found my mini microphone.  I plan to hook it up to my laptop and record myself singing in the laundry room basement of my building.  I may even share some of these recordings on this here page.  The acoustics are pretty clean down there (pun intended).

AND LASTLY, I found the memory stick to my digital camera.  I went on my first photographic romp of the new year.  Here are the results:

It's 2010. You know what that also means.

Hate when buildings force me to consider things.

Dog in pink bonnet. You're not fooling anyone. You may be wearing a hat intended for a human, but you're still not allowed.

Still Life with Surgical Mask