Greetings my loyal subjects.
I write to you today about the mundane, the everyday, the meatiocre.
When I write this fine blog I attempt to filter the content, only posting the choicest morsels of grade "A" subject meatter. The reasoning behind this is that I want every savory sentence and protein packed post to briefly satisfy your insatiable hunger for word play and meaty particulars. But, in my effort to present meatingful content, I have overlooked the significance of the day-to-day supplements of succulent sustenance that sustain my sunny spirits (alliteration. (What! What!)). In an attempt to rectify this grievous error I hereby dedicate this post to the unacknowledged meat that has graced my plate.
This is a shout out to the smell of bacon in the morning.
A homage to the taco seasoned ground beef mingling on my quesadilla.
A show of respect to the chicken swimming in my curry.
A tribute to the bacon bits buried in my oatmeal.
A round of applause for the marriage of Canadian bacon and pineapple.
And a moment of silence for the horsemeat in my burger.
Take care and take time to appreciate the meatiature momeats in your life.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Off the Chain... Or Waffle?
I've been waffling about for days, debating whether or not to write this post because honestly, what I ate wasn't that meaty. But after days of quiet introspection I determined that it would be a wawful idea not to fill you guys in on the awesometasticness that I engulfed this past weekend.
I was in Eugene, Oregon, for a soccer game and after the final whistle blew, waffull-scale hunger attacked. I convinced my comrades that we needed to resist the monotony of fast food, steering our caravan to Off The Waffle. As we settled into our booth I could feel the waffull nelson of ravenous appetite tightening its hold on my deprived stomach. I ordered hastily. My frantic decision-making settled on the Goat In Headlights, a Liège waffle topped with goat cheese, avocado, fresh basil, two sunny side up eggs, smoked paprika, fresh coriander and extra virgin olive oil. I threw a side order of bacon on top in order to qualify my meal for meat log blog fame. I scarfed down my waffull-sized meal within minutes of it docking on my table. My hunger was appeased. I felt complete, waffulfilled if you will.
I was in Eugene, Oregon, for a soccer game and after the final whistle blew, waffull-scale hunger attacked. I convinced my comrades that we needed to resist the monotony of fast food, steering our caravan to Off The Waffle. As we settled into our booth I could feel the waffull nelson of ravenous appetite tightening its hold on my deprived stomach. I ordered hastily. My frantic decision-making settled on the Goat In Headlights, a Liège waffle topped with goat cheese, avocado, fresh basil, two sunny side up eggs, smoked paprika, fresh coriander and extra virgin olive oil. I threw a side order of bacon on top in order to qualify my meal for meat log blog fame. I scarfed down my waffull-sized meal within minutes of it docking on my table. My hunger was appeased. I felt complete, waffulfilled if you will.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Big Shrimpin' Spending G's
Listen up you shrimpletons. I'm about to drop knowledge on y'all.
I'm just a Po' Boy from a po' family, or at least I used to be...
My clothes: raggedy. My body: unclean. And my stomach: tragically vacant. My American Dream was turning nightmarish. I needed to make a change; I needed to make an investment. So, I took my 32" Toshiba TV, circa 2002, down to the local prawn shop. After nearly an hour of haggling with the shrimpy man behind the counter, I convinced him to pay me $24 for my darling Toshiba. With $24 in hand and a head full of ambition I boarded a bus destined for the South Hill. As I stepped off my shuttle I could already see my bright future and Casper Fry's. I marched straight into to Casper Fry's (not under a cloak of darkness and smoke this time) and took a seat at the bar. I slammed my cash down and made an investment in flavor. As my Shrimp Po' Boy approached they bar I felt the winds of change brush against the neck. I slowly savored my sandwich and as I ate I knew that I would no longer be a Po' Boy.
As I left Casper Fry's the power of shrimp compelled me to buy a scratch ticket. I had $11 left to my name at this time. I spent $10. I won $1,000,000. After my initial elation subsided I chose to invest my money once again, only this time in the steak market. My financial decisions have paid dividends and although my accountant does not permit me to discuss these matters, I can assure you that my days as a Po' Boy are well behind me.
Life is shrimple now. I live in a quaint mega-mansion in the heart of New York City, I wear leather 3 piece suits, I gorge myself on Shrimp and White Wine and I own a pet Shrimpanzee.
Shrimp changed my life, and it can change yours too.
I'm just a Po' Boy from a po' family, or at least I used to be...
My clothes: raggedy. My body: unclean. And my stomach: tragically vacant. My American Dream was turning nightmarish. I needed to make a change; I needed to make an investment. So, I took my 32" Toshiba TV, circa 2002, down to the local prawn shop. After nearly an hour of haggling with the shrimpy man behind the counter, I convinced him to pay me $24 for my darling Toshiba. With $24 in hand and a head full of ambition I boarded a bus destined for the South Hill. As I stepped off my shuttle I could already see my bright future and Casper Fry's. I marched straight into to Casper Fry's (not under a cloak of darkness and smoke this time) and took a seat at the bar. I slammed my cash down and made an investment in flavor. As my Shrimp Po' Boy approached they bar I felt the winds of change brush against the neck. I slowly savored my sandwich and as I ate I knew that I would no longer be a Po' Boy.
Life is shrimple now. I live in a quaint mega-mansion in the heart of New York City, I wear leather 3 piece suits, I gorge myself on Shrimp and White Wine and I own a pet Shrimpanzee.
Shrimp changed my life, and it can change yours too.
Monday, February 4, 2013
A Brief History of Meatloaf
Bonjour mesdames et messieurs,
Sharpen your pencils, ingest your Adderall, and shine your apples (ham-apples preferably); Professor Gary Mustard has a history lesson prepared for the class today.
Bread is a big deal in France. Boulangeries (bread only bakeries for all y'all 'mericans) speckle a map of Paris like an outbreak of doughy chicken pox. Competition is fierce and only the best survive.
In 1763 there was one Boulangerie in Paris that stood apart from the others. It was known as Boulangerie Menardin, it was owned and operated by Pierre-Louis Andreu, and it was the worst. As an outcome of his horrid bread Pierre-Louis was blessed with ample free time. While loafing around on a dreary March morning brilliance crashed into Pierre-Louis' skull. In a fit culinary genius Monsieur Andreu closed his doors for the day; to no ones dismay. The doors to Boulangerie Menardin remained closed for weeks as Pierre-Louis crafted his legacy. When the doors of Boulangerie Menardin finally swung open again, greatness leapt out. Pierre-Louis had made some major rameatfication to bread; the dough was gone and meat took its place. Meatloaf was born.
Meatloaf has since been adopted and edited by cultures around the world but as the 20th century passed its midpoint, the popularity of meatloaf waned. Meatloaf consumption was in a sharp decline until Marvin Lee Aday ascended to super-stardom. Marvin, or should I say Meat Loaf, is an icon of American hard rock, a pillar in the male model community and unwaveringly commeated to what is good in the world. Marvin's meaticulous guitar, creamy vocals and Adonis like attractiveness propelled meatloaf back into the forefront of minds and the middle of dinner tables.
Today meatloaf is still going strong and I am doing my part to innovate. This past weekend I joined bacon and ground beef in Holy Meatramony. The pair brought onions, mushrooms, oatmeal, and an egg to fill out their wedding party.
The ceremony took just under an hour and was a moving experience for all involved. You could smell it in the air; a new couple was creating one perfect union. The newlyweds promptly jumped into a big bed made of fluffy pesto mashed potatoes and have been making tender love to my taste buds ever since.
Bacon Meatloaf I love you!
Sharpen your pencils, ingest your Adderall, and shine your apples (ham-apples preferably); Professor Gary Mustard has a history lesson prepared for the class today.
Bread is a big deal in France. Boulangeries (bread only bakeries for all y'all 'mericans) speckle a map of Paris like an outbreak of doughy chicken pox. Competition is fierce and only the best survive.
In 1763 there was one Boulangerie in Paris that stood apart from the others. It was known as Boulangerie Menardin, it was owned and operated by Pierre-Louis Andreu, and it was the worst. As an outcome of his horrid bread Pierre-Louis was blessed with ample free time. While loafing around on a dreary March morning brilliance crashed into Pierre-Louis' skull. In a fit culinary genius Monsieur Andreu closed his doors for the day; to no ones dismay. The doors to Boulangerie Menardin remained closed for weeks as Pierre-Louis crafted his legacy. When the doors of Boulangerie Menardin finally swung open again, greatness leapt out. Pierre-Louis had made some major rameatfication to bread; the dough was gone and meat took its place. Meatloaf was born.
Meatloaf has since been adopted and edited by cultures around the world but as the 20th century passed its midpoint, the popularity of meatloaf waned. Meatloaf consumption was in a sharp decline until Marvin Lee Aday ascended to super-stardom. Marvin, or should I say Meat Loaf, is an icon of American hard rock, a pillar in the male model community and unwaveringly commeated to what is good in the world. Marvin's meaticulous guitar, creamy vocals and Adonis like attractiveness propelled meatloaf back into the forefront of minds and the middle of dinner tables.
Today meatloaf is still going strong and I am doing my part to innovate. This past weekend I joined bacon and ground beef in Holy Meatramony. The pair brought onions, mushrooms, oatmeal, and an egg to fill out their wedding party.
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