Nutella ... not baduh!

Upon a return from the Wal-Mart Supercenter less than a mile from our humble home in SexistFatPeople, Indiana, my mom/landlord unearthed a special surprise: Nutella.

The spread, with a consistency of creamy peanut butter, is described on its unassuming 13 oz jar as a "hazelnut spread with skim milk & cocoa." While I know nothing about nuts, the hazel variety has swept me off my feet, at least in this condensed, partially-hydrogenated form.

What to do with the spread was a problem initially. Spread it on crackers? Shampoo my dog? Cut myself with paperclips and assassinate King Phillip? The difficulty of the decision is intensified by the idea that Nutella isn't something you eat as the base of a meal, unless you're Pam (see butter pound cake thisisafoodblog.com entry). Indeed it's something one adds to a bread-like item to enhance its flavor tenfold. I've been putting it on English muffins, bagels and glue sticks. It's chocolatey taste warms my entire body and helps me make important decisions about property tax relief options.

Happy Birthday.

Wendy's v. the Board of Education

I know I'm not the only person to go to Wendy's on a hot summer day in hot pursuit of a Frosty. I know I'm not the only person who had a huge problem last August when the Wendy's corporation put a dead ferret in charge of its menu and came up with "the vanilla Frosty."

"Chocolate Frosty." That's a redundancy.

"Vanilla Frosty." That's more than a contradiction. That's a disgusting bastardization of something we've known and loved since 1969. "Vanilla Frosty" makes Dave Thomas roll over in his grave at 600 RPM.

I didn't say anything about this abomination a year ago because, while I disagreed with "vanilla Frosty" in principle, its existence didn't really affect me.

That is... until yesterday. I ordered a chocolate Frosty at the drive-thru.

"We're out of chocolate."

WHAT?

As if that wasn't bad enough, the punk had the audacity to ask "is vanilla OK?"

Are you kidding? Is genocide OK?