Month: July 2010

Vacation’s all I ever wanted!

I’m seriously slacking on the SUF front, I hate to say.  I’ve left the 11222 for Cape Cod and will not be tweeting, blogging, or harassing Snacktime for 1 whole week (except for my personal facebook, twitter, and 12 other blogs where I exercise self-importance, naturally)!

Sorry to leave you all in the lurch, as I know, I know – my posts are as riveting as a firework explosion over a crazed anti-government revolution while bunnies fall from the skies like rain.  I’m really doing you all a disservice, I am so sorry.

But, I shall return on July 27, hopefully with some great tales of Masshole foodies!  And that ain’t no bad deal!

Cheers!

A Listicle

In case you hadn’t noticed, we hate summer even more than we hate snobs. Here’s why!

1. It’s hot

2. We are pale people who must avoid the sun. Last week Meatball was supposed to buy her first bathing suit in more than 10 years and bought Doc Martens instead. Priorities.

3. It leads us to write stupidly self-referential posts like this

4. Seafood

5. Wine bras and the puns they bring.

    1. boozy boost
    2. cups that runneth over
    3. whopping jugs
    4. “nurse their drinks”

    Say It Ain’t So, Joe

    drawing of a refrigerator with a note on itDear Joe:

    I hate my job. Do you hate yours? We probably hate ours for a lot of the same reasons–overworked, underpaid, little chance of advancement to anything remotely satisfying, no respect from our peers or superiors, terrible hours, a horrible commute, a dying industry, fluorescent lights, canned air, forced after-hours socializing, privacy-free cubicles, a pathetic health plan, and a constant feeling of despair. But you know what Joe? I think I might hate my job un poquito more than you hate yours. Want to know why?

    Because I work with you.

    Yes you, Joe. You and your goddamn lunch. Your goddamn lunch that you “cook” at work. Your goddamn lunch that you “cook” at work, but you put quotation marks around it because  “compared with what I usually do at home, this might not exactly be considered cooking.” Shut up, Joe! Shut up, shut up, shut up!

    Making your lunch at home and bringing it is one thing. That is smart, healthy, and thrifty. But when I walk into the micro-kitchen we are equipped with here at work, Joe, I don’t want to have to deal with you and your sardines, and your “game” of making pasta with a teakettle. Perhaps you are finding your experiments “pungently satisfying,” but it’s a workplace, Joe. And the one thing a workplace should never be is “pungent.”

    So I’ve “cooked” up this letter for you Joe, along with the rest of the office. We made a little game of it, and used the materials at hand–a piece of copy paper and a pen. And we’re putting it on the refrigerator for you to read instead of “cooking” today at lunch.

    Sincerely,

    The rest of the Washington Post

    Let No Stain Go Unframed

    kouichi's okamoto's Framing Napkins--napkin with a frame border so your stains seem like "art"

    Don’t be like that boring lady in the New York Times who merely wrote down what she eats. After you’ve carefully photographed and eaten your meal, use one of Kouichi Okamoto‘s framing napkins to immortalize the experience.

    Okamoto also has this kind of cool topographic plate.

    topographic plate has mountains and lakes you put your food in

    please pour the soup into this plate. mountain range and a lake are completed.
    and the bottom of a lake appears when you eat the soup.
    please enjoy the taste, the landscape and topography of the plate.
    when you use it as a salad dish, it becomes a forest.
    you can create a landscape on your very own table.

    Look out for the tabletop Earth Liberation Front!

    Keep On Truckin’

    robert crumb cartoon of a guy with a big foot

    Taco trucks are so old-school, you guys. Now I only get my food at the CSA Farm Truck. Technically you have to be a member to shop there but you can sign up for the CSA on the spot and pick up “pickling cucumbers, radishes and yellow squash, along with other regional products from up north, like Walpole Creamery’s raw-milk maple walnut ice cream and Vermont Coffee Company’s fair-trade, organic beans.”

    After that, I will wander over to the Marlowe & Sons slaughter truck, where I can kill a chicken or cut off a few ribs from a cow for dinner. Then I’ll stomp some grapes at the wine truck and, if I have time, pick up some bread at the knead truck. What could be more environmentally sound than boutique delivery of authentic food?