Frontier Former Editor

May 22, 2011

I feel like John Cleese, except for the ability to utter curt profanities at stupid teenagers . . .

Filed under: cuisine, decorum, ersatz food, fast food, food, food extenders, fun stuff, humor, Monty Python — Frontier Former Editor @ 5:46 pm

Sometimes truth is stranger than the Cheese Shop sketch.

As I stopped by the local national-chain sandwich shop this evening to get a fast dinner (don’t laugh too hard if you’ve been to Subway before), I decided that the remaining raspberry cheesecake cookies on the counter rack looked relatively appetizing. I asked for three, and the young lady proceeded to get tongs and remove them.

“That’s fine,” I replied.

“They’re very crumbly,” she said.

Decision time. Should I follow the trail blazed by Mr. Cleese four decades earlier and just blurt out, “I don’t care how ****ing crumbly they are! Bring  on the raspberry cheesecake cookies with all due haste and speed!”?

Answer: “That’s fine.”

I’m sure she either didn’t comprehend the ironic smile on my face, or else she called the police and I’m being surveilled for sexual harassment.

April 3, 2008

Snack food

Filed under: dead celebrity sweepstakes, ersatz food, humor, old times, wits — Tags: , — Frontier Former Editor @ 10:25 pm


 Sometimes you just have to make a Quentin Crisp joke as a matter of principle . . . or boredom. I blame Raincoaster for starting the mummified fairy remains movement.

I’m sure Quentin would have approved, or at least told a story about it at dinner.

October 17, 2007

The Reese’s Cup is dying!

Filed under: candy, death of an American icon, dumbasses, ersatz food, food, Reese's Peanut Butter Cup — Frontier Former Editor @ 2:07 pm

Okay folks, it’s almost as bad as buying a Ford the last decade or so. Or almost as bad as Harley Davidsons had sunk in quality until about 10 or 15 years ago. Or so bad that Gibbon should have written another volume of “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire” specifically to address this.


The Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup is going to hell in a handbasket.

I made this profound observation while attempting to eat one at work today. It’s bad enough that the makers have trimmed the diameter by at least a quarter inch in the last year.

In the good old days, and even as recently as a year or so ago, a Reese’s cup could cover almost all of the top of a soda can. An Eisenhower silver dollar could damn near hide the current production version of the Reese’s cup.

[Note: If you’re from the South or at least corrupted by long-term exposure south of Falls Church, Va., it’s pronounced ree-see kup.]

And my attempt to eat one today . . . let’s just say that shucking and slurping a raw oyster would have been easier and neater.

Used to be that you could open the wrapper of a Reese’s cup with one finger, and that the cup would separate cleanly from the wax paper cup cradling it. You could nibble away at the candy at your leisure (ambient air temperature allowing, of course.).

The goddam excuse of a Reese’s cup I ate today had semi-bonded to the wax paper. That came after trying to separate the fused flaps of the now all-plastic wrapper.

The technique for eating a new, improved Reese’s cup involves debonding a portion of the cup’s perimeter and then scraping the contents away with your front teeth before trying to taste and swallow the now-crushed candy.

No leisurely enjoyment. The process now makes you feel like an anteater with a mouthful of dirt and panicky ants.

It’s a goddamn shame when your country’s leaders can’t even handle basic colonialism and your candy industry can’t even handle a simple goddamn peanut butter cup.

September 2, 2007

The joys of re-enacting, or designer SPAM and potted meat

Sometimes I go wandering through my IE favorites to see what stuff I bookmarked for a particular project.

I’ve got a lot of projects. Too many projects.

Being an inveterate modeler, I’ve always found the Internet to be a treasure trove of quick research for all those kits I’ll never build or will partially build. But after last week’s essay on school lunches and canned food at Teeny Manolo, I remembered the time last year when I was working on a figure of a German infantryman and started looking for info on helmet covers (yep, the hobby can get strange . . . .)

And as I scrolled down the faves list, there it was, a website devoted to reproduction field rations.

While I’m a historian by education and often interested in minutae as well as broad strokes, I’m not sure I’d pay the equivalent price of a steak dinner for this:


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