Oh hey, Sbarro, this is just a note to let you know that your sign is worded incorrectly. You claim that your baked ziti is “delicious”, when I think what you meant to say is “putrid”. Don’t feel bad, English is a super hard language to learn, and you’re doing really well. Its not like you can look up a picture of your limp dick noodles with no sauce and flavorless cheese-like substitute in an Italian to English dictionary – you just had to give it your best guess!

Don’t feel bad about getting it wrong. I’ve written fourteen letters like this to The Olive Garden, plus one unrelated to language (the hostess refused to give me more than two crayons. WHAT kind of establishment is THAT, I ask you? She had no idea I was planning on grinding the green one up on my salad to give it flavor).

If you have any more questions, feel free to contact me c/o Taco Bell. I don’t work there, but I make a regular habit of enjoying their Fiesta Potato Tacos. You should take note – they kept the adjectives in their native tongue (if you can call ‘party’ an adjective) – and effectively communicated the idea that these indeed would be loud, rambunctious, and best enjoyed on the weekend.




Tale of a Chees-ie (ish) Relationship

Oh seriously, Chee-tos? Are we going to do this again? Do you think I don’t remember how often we’ve done this? So many times I’ve lost track.

Sure, you're all fun and enticing now...


Oh, you’ve changed. You’ve got “real cheese” now, you say? No trans-fats? So what, before you thought it was fine to poison me with orange wood shavings glue-sticked onto some butter? And if what’s going on with you right now if your definition of real cheese, you’re more fucked up then the last time we did this.

I know this, and yet I keep doing it. You just get stuck in my head.  That crunchy puffy center would be perfect, I think. Not salty like regular chips, but still delightfully trashy. And just like that, I can’t get you out of my head. Sure, there are other snack foods in my apartment, but none of them are you. How could they be? I have serious doubts as to your legal standing as food, how could there be two concoctions so dastardly evil and yet totally addictive?

At two in the morning in a moment of weakness I start to head out the door for the twenty-four hour grocery store, but realize as I pull on my shoes that I have more self respect than a middle of the night foody call. Saved, but just barely.

But then somehow when I’m grocery shopping you’re on display at eye level in the vegetable section. Oh really? You just happened to be where I was going? I don’t know who you think you’re fooling buddy, but even though I haven’t seen you in a while I would be willing to bet your number one ingredient  hasn’t changed to kale in the meantime. Yeah?  You took some time for yourself, started making commercials featuring constantly jumping children? That doesn’t mean you’ve changed, buddy.

And now you’re here, and the exact same thing that always happens is going to happen. I’m going to be totally enthused for one day, and then slowly all the bad things will come creeping back into my mind. Namely that you’re not that good. And then I’ll have to look at the half stale bag for two months until I get up the nerve to just kick you to the curb  again.

God damn you, Chee-tos.

End Milk

You know what it is. End Milk, noun: the milk following a delicious bowl of cereal. The swan song of your breakfast. An opus of cereal memory suspended in the creamy deliciousness that is milk.

End milk is officially the best food in the world. Cinnamon Toast Crunch end milk, to be specific. It allows you the simplicity to drink it from a bowl while also giving you the impression of eating a delectable bowl of your favorite cereal. Yes, of course, the cereal itself is heavenly – but really with all the chewing and the temporary interruption of hearing it causes, the possibility of sogginess, and having the unfortunate circumstance of needing a utencil…it really is such a hassle. That is where the splendor of end milk appears.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch end milk may have saved my life.

This little fucker can't even stop licking himself - how do you think I feel?

Shit yes, candy please

Nobody actually Trick-or-Treats anymore. Thirty years ago nobody put razor blades in some candy apples and that nonevent set off a chain of events that eventually led kids to Trick-or-Treating at the mall. Depressing. But what does this mean for you?

It means that everyone is buying candy for these phantom children and then eating it themselves. Its not just you and me, friend, our collective fatassery is a staple in the American economy.

The best of all candy bags is the Reese’s variety pack. Its not characteristically Halloween-y; its regular Reese’s, not bats or pumpkins or haunted houses. But holy shit man, how can you go wrong? There’s the original you-got-chocolate-in-my-peanut-butter classic that’s been around since the days of Ralph Malph ruling the airwaves. Yes, he ruled them. Don’t question me. I’m a historian.

Then there’s Reese’s Fast Breaks. Admittedly, I was not for these when I first discovered them. Surely, I thought, its a peanut buttery Kit-Kat bar. Nope. Kit Kat bars require troublesome chewing. This Fast Break can easily be gummed into submission. The only not wonderful part is the name. This thing isn’t an energy bar, no matter how much it wants to be. When eating this thing, you don’t need it to be “FAST”. In fact, you’re probably laying in bed slamming a couple of these fun sized bastards down your gullet and marathoning Degrassi. You’re got nowhere to be, and this Fast Break is just taunting you.

Plus there’s Reese’s Piece’s which ET loved, so there’s your connection to history.


Today will be filled with these top 5 treats for the best season of the year…

1. Pumpkin Pie Pop Tarts/Choco-Lantern Pop Tarts

Please ignore the gingerbread...we are not ready for him yet.

2. Pumpkin Smash Jamba Juice Smoothies

3. Apple Cider

Sweet fucking Jesus...

4. Caramel Apple Pops

Don't try to bite these bastards, however...they'll rip your freakin' teeth out.


Quite possibly the winner.

6. Pumpkin Spice Pudding

How have I never had this before???

Fall Frenzy!

Today I thought we could try  something slightly different. I said slightly, don’t lose your head.

That’s right, recipe reviews! We’re moving beyond the pre-prepped holiday/seasonally appropriate food into straight up I-specifically-created-this territory…mostly because our enthusiasm for Halloween and the fall is still largely unsupported by the masses. It was 80 degrees outside today. Its  also unsupported by the Snowmeiser. But I digress. food group

It's food art!

So, squash casserole. Delicious and appropriate, right?
First, they want you to put a cheese on it that might require venturing into the “special cheese” section of the grocery store. I hate that that section exists. Why don’t they put the cheeses together? I have to figure out where you’re hiding the Chihuahua cheese just to make a halfway decent burrito? Seriously? So fuck it, I had a coupon and so I used generic ass cheese and it was still good so eat it, snobs.

Here’s  a thing I had forgotten about squash since last fall: it’s the absolute worst. Unless you have a cooking guillotine in the cupboard above the stove, you might as well just save yourself the trouble and make a cheese sandwich.  So to all you self proclaimed foodies: fuck you, you aren’t a foodie just because you don’t eat at McDonald’s. Get over yourself and your perceived superiority  based on the fact that you use fresh tomatoes. Just use the fucking frozen squash already.

But my grocery store is the size of two kids wearing one coat and pretending to be an adult. Does this make for a large sized person? Yes. Its still a little hard to fir a large selection of food under one fedora, however. There’s only so much one faux perv can fit within himself.
That took a turn for the worst. Let’s move on.

The point is, I used fresh. God, I used real squash.  I cut it with a knife. So I’m basically She-Ra at this point. Then these sadomasochists wanted me to cut it into MANY STRIPS. At this point, I hate these people, but I’m too far into it now. So I stuck it in the oven for a Rip Van Winkle amount of time to soften it up. This doesn’t really do that much. In trying to skin it the fates catch up to me and I stab myself a little bit, which of course results in blood. So, so much blood. On the dance floor, on the bathroom floor, somehow all over myself….but not in the casserole. So I soldiered on. And by soldiered on I mean my roommate finished it while I laid around putting pressure on the one inch cut and pretending like I had just been through an ordeal, because anything worth doing is worth complaining about. Remember that, kids.

Oh, so the review part:

Its good. Try to get some other sap to make it for you for optimum deliciousness/bloodlessness.