This is a food blog: August 2007

For sale or runt

Candy has been an important part of my life recently.

Wrong.

Candy has ALWAYS BEEN an important part of my life.

Recently, though, I've the time and the capital to attain sugary confections whenever I please.

I've made it my business to always have candy, in some form, at my fingertips for at least 80 percent of my day. To you this may sound sad and unhealthy. It is.

Still, hours of candy shopping have resulted in distinct and meticulous taste. I prefer the "theater box candy," as many discount chain stores call them. These (at least) 7-ounce boxes last the better part of 10 days, depending on how many of my single-digit-aged relatives uninvitingly dispense a handful for themselves.

Yesterday I purchased a box like this of Wonka's Runts. The new flavors, pineapple and mango, intrigued me more than Madonna's deflating career.

Everyone knows the only good runts are the bananas and strawberries.

Disappointingly, I've discovered that's still the case.

do the (micro)WAVE!!!

For one year this was my microwave. It is also a time machine.

Plantain in the membrane

There aren't many things you can't fry up and turn into a snack food. I'm just looking around the room right now--coffee table, kitty cat, Robert Redford/Barbara Streisand--all these things could be delicious snacks if prepared the right way.

I moved to NYC yesterday and today I experienced my first trip to the grocery store. I got the essentials--plantain chips. I expected them to taste like bananas. I'm so ashamed. They actually taste similar to potato chips. But they're healthier. I compaired the nutrition stats of plantain chips to my roomie Brittany's regular potato chips. Potato chips have 150 more mg of sodium per serving than plantain chips.

Of course if you like things salty (like Brittany who put something back at the store BECAUSE it said "low sodium") then you might want to frequent your neighborhood salt lick.

Slow down; I can't ketchup!

I had a one-month stint as a waitress in West Lafayette, Indiana. Which is great if you like fast cash and suicidal thoughts. I learned a lot about people and their twisted food desires. The wholesome people of Indiana will literally smack you in the mouth if you place any potato product in front of them without immediately providing ketchup. And lots of it.

On one of my many trips back to the kitchen to fetch the sacred tomato-based condiment (after being smacked in the mouth, of course) I heard one customer call it "Indiana gravy." So the neighborhood children don't cover their slip'n'slides with ketchup in other states?