A Letter To My Dinner

Dear Dinner,

I just wanted to take a second or two to thank you for filling me up today.  You have ensured that I will not be hungry until most likely breakfast time tomorrow.  I say most likely because I don't know how much of that morning hunger is actual hunger or just the fact that I'm used to filling my pie-hole around seven in the morning and if I don't do so promptly my body starts sending me warning signals.

I stand by the tried and tested rule of, "No Dessert Until You've Cleaned Your Plate."

With that in mind, I'd also like to thank you, Dinner, for being so likable in the first place.  I mean, you really should have seen it - I was, like, done eating you in four or five bites tops.  If you listened closely enough you would have heard a "shoom" sound as the fork went into my mouth.

If there's one bit of constructive criticism I could give you, Dinner, it would be that you just aren't as satisfying as a good breakfast on a Sunday.  You know the type - where you don't need to eat for the rest of the day afterward. Please don't get the wrong idea, I'm not saying you should try to change to be more like breakfast.  I love you, Dinner, just the way you are.  It's not a competition.

You know, now that I think about it, I probably shouldn't have even brought up breakfast.  

I mean, not mentioned it.  "Brought up" sounds like something else entirely.

Wow, talk about putting my own foot in my mouth there.  Anyway, how's your mom and dad doing?  Did they ever get that hole in the boat fixed?

Great catching up, 

Hope to hear from you soon,

-ryan

I'm Spreading This Reese's on Everything

There are really no words to describe the joy that is now filling up inside me, as I attempt to spread this new Reese Spread on... well, just about anything.

It was recommended to me by good friends Wessy-Poo and Monica, and I ran out the next morning to buy it.

The first taste had to simply be off a spoon.  Just on it's own.  Just to see what we were really dealing with here.  Then, I did what the label illustrated - I put it on toast and apple slices.  I gotta admit, if it weren't for those sly instructions I may never have put it on apple slices. Some folks might not like the idea of spreading this glory on something healthy like a piece of fruit, but I figure if it's on the label then it's one of the primary uses.

Next came a celery stick, because when I was a kid I used to put peanut butter and cheese whiz on celery sticks.  This seemed like a natural progression to me.  And it fell in line with the "healthy" exploration that began with the apple slices.   The juncture between healthy and fun came with spreading it on a Sweet N' Salty almond granola bar.  That was damn good.

Then it seemed like a good idea to just spread it on my lips so I would be extra kissable.  Not that I'm not already kissable - I'd like to think that I'm pretty kissable.  I mean, if I weren't me, I'd probably kiss me.  So anyway, I put some on my lips and made the kissy-face at The Lovely Wife.  She didn't make the kissy-face back.  In fact, she made the ever-so-popular what-the-fuck-are-you-doing face, followed by the equally arousing why-am-I-still-married-to-you face.

All plans to spread this Reese on my junk in hopes of some sweet mouth lovin' went out the window.

Back to the food, I decided, and I spread it on a Reese Chocolate Bar.  I should mention that this was my first time ever trying the Reese chocolate bar.  I was very excited for it, but found it lacked the chocolate to peanut butter ratio that the regular peanut butter cups have.  My favorite Reese is the larger sized, two-pack of peanut butter cups. They have more peanut butter in them.  I once tried that 1-pound peanut butter cup and, while it was magical in its own right, I found it was heavy on the chocolate side.

At my recent No Vegans Allowed BBQ, I bought an eight-pack of peanut butter cups and a bunch of us spread this Reese on those.  A couple of us had orgasms.  One of us had two (I'm looking at you Wessy-Poo). 

There are a few other tests I'd like to do, but just haven't gotten around to it yet.  I'd like to use this Reese on baked potatoes, pretzels, and as a marinade for steak.  Ultimately I see myself using this spread for making peanut butter cookies. 

And let's be real, I'll get around to spreading it on my junk at some point.

- ryan

PS - I think I should go on record by saying that spreading any kind of food on your private areas isn't a really good idea.  I'm not talking from personal experience here (unless you count that time an old girlfriend and I decided to experiment with honey, which was a stupid idea for a man with a hairy chest) but more from cautionary common sense.  You don't want your penis or vagina to start attracting ants - especially RED ANTS! - or flies or homeless people looking for any table scraps they can find.  I'm about 95% sure that when the good people at the Reese company developed this tasty spread they had no intention of anyone spreading it on their bodies to make oral sex taste better for their partner.  And if they did think of developing it for sexual reasons, then wow, someone's got a wicked sense of creative imagination, and I'd be half-scared to see their internet browsing history.  So, be safe folks!  Don't attract those red ants!

Ryan's Guide to Breakfast Cereal

I'm an expert in all things chef related.

Who doesn't like a friggin' good breakfast?  I always feel weird when I talk about food on my site, because I complain a lot about how my wife leaves The Food Network on for hours at a time.  But, you know what?  Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.  And sometimes you don't have time to cook a big breakfast.

That's where breakfast cereal comes in.

Today we'll take a look at what constitutes a great cereal.

Marshmallows
Let's face it - all the best cereals have those dried out marshmallows in them.   If, like me, you weren't allowed to have those sugary cereals as a kid then one of the first things you did as an adult living on your own was run out to buy a box of Lucky Charms.

There's something (possibly magically delicious) about those marshmallows that makes us all very happy on the inside.  It has to be more than the fact that they're just mere sugar and food coloring.  Is it the shapes?  Do the little stars and balloons actually increase our level of happiness when we see them?  Hmmmm....

Having marshmallows in your cereal makes you wonder how much better our lives would be if we just added marshmallows to other meals too.  Throw some yellow star marshmallows into your caesar salad.  Get some red balloons into your rice pilaf.  What's the worst that could happen?

Fake Flakes
I've seen them all - Fruity Swirls... Loopy Fruity O's.... Fruit Hoops.... Fruit Flavored Colorful Rings.... Fruit Spins...
None of these goddam things are Fruit Loops.  No matter how hard they try.  Sure, the real Fruit Loops are so sweet they'll hurt your teeth, and the no-name knock-offs are actually a little better tasting, but we're talking about the importance of following our nose here.
Froot Loops are not Fruit Loops.  And they never will be.

Who Didn't Have Their Own Cereal?

This cereal needs an enema!

Take a look at the image on the right.  That's Batman cereal from 1989.  That shit really existed.  I ate it.  And it was awesome.  Fictional characters have been lending their likeness to cereals since the destruction of Krypton, and they'll continue to do so.

Check out a video I made many years ago of me eating Pirates of the Caribbean cereal - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkm_5gKUNag

Living in Canada, we don't get as many neat-o cereals as they do in the USA.  I've seen cereals for just about every fictional character you could think of: Bugs Bunny, Mickey Mouse, Teletubbies, Simpsons, and of course the very popular Fruity Pebbles that spotlights the Flintstones.

It makes me wonder, what will be next?  I'd definitely eat a Lexi Belle themed cereal.  Or some Jessica Alba-O's.  Hell, serve me up a bowl of Machete Flakes!

Where's the Bacon at, yo?
THERE ARE NO BACON CEREALS!
This is a friggin' travesty.  When you think of breakfast - you think of bacon.  At least I know I do!  Don't get me wrong, I realize how easy it would be to throw a handful of bacon bits into my bran flakes, but that's beside the point.

I wanna walk down the grocery store aisle and see a big purple box of Bacon Bran.  That's right - a box of Bran Flakes with a guarantee of TWO SCOOPS OF BACON in every box.  And real bacon bits too, people!  Not that simulated bacon-flavored shit my mother-in-law insists on eating.

If I'm being too demanding, I'd settle for a Kevin Bacon themed cereal. 

How Much Milk Is Too Much Milk?
Do you end up with too much milk in your bowl after consuming your Rice Krispies?  Did your mom make you drink it afterwards until you felt like your stomach was gonna snap, crackle, AND pop?  Nobody wants that shit to happen.  So here's a simple mathematical equation to help you ensure you'll always use the right amount of milk.

Just let "d" represent the dairy, and "k" represent the Krispies, and "x" represent your feelings.

The answer = yummy.

The Toy
Alright, let's get down to serious business.  The most important part of breakfast cereal is the toy inside, right?  I have a three year old and she eats cereal.  I have yet to find a toy inside any of the cereal boxes.  And yet, many of her cereals do offer her the ability to go online and enjoy some cereal related fun.

What the fuck is that?  Since when do breakfast cereals have digital copies????

The conspiracy theorist in me assumes that Apple has joined forces with Apple Jacks to mess with my daughter's childhood.  I remember, and distinctly remember, pulling out awesome stuff from cereal boxes like Labyrinth stickers, Superman trading cards, toy dinosaurs, color-changing markers, and even little puzzles.

C'mon cereal companies, the McDonald's Happy Meal still offers something worthwhile inside!  Why don't you?

So that's it... at least for now... If you can think of a way to make that bacon cereal a reality, please let me know.  I'd be all over it.

- ryan

That Time I Went To A Museum

statue of Abraham Lincoln

The year was 2009.  It was a cold January morning.  You can tell it was cold because in the pictures I'm wearing my winter jacket.  And I was there.  I remember it being cold enough to wear a winter jacket.  Or even a light jacket with a really heavy sweater, but that might not have been all that comfortable.  Winter jacket it was!

I had a hankering to go to a museum.  But before I went to that museum to see all the fine historical pieces of art and bones, I knew it was important for me to have a good, solid breakfast.  You see, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.  At least that's what we're told.  It's probably a scam from the media or the government, but how am I supposed to know that?  And if breakfast truly is the most important meal of the day, then why is it always the least expensive on the menu at any restaurant?  You would assume that the boneless rib steak with garlic shrimp and twice-baked potato with a side of grilled mushrooms and a lovely glass of red wine would be the most important meal of the day.  That little feast can easily set you back a good fifty dollar bill or more.

There I go getting off topic again.  I'm pretty bad for that sometimes.  I have an important story to tell about my trip to the museum.  This is no time or place for grilled mushrooms.

So I woke up, remembered it was cold enough to need a winter jacket, and decided to have a healthy breakfast.   Pancakes are my favorite food, so naturally I gravitated to something that would involve putting them in my belly.  And what goes perfect with pancakes?  Why, bacon of course!  And pancake syrup.  The good stuff.  It's gotta be made by that lovely lady Aunt Jemima or else it's just not good enough to touch my lips and tongue.  Sorry to burst your bubble readers, but when it comes to pancake syrup, I'm kind of a snob.

While we're on the subject of syrup - do you say "sir-up" or "seer-up"?  It's this strange debate I've been having with people for years!  You might try and pull the whole "tomato/tomahto" case of 1972 as your backup, but really, a good bottle of Aunt Jemima's finest deserves to have a unified, decisive and agreed upon title given to it.  So sir-up it is.  Spread the word.  Anyone who says seer-up is a communist.

And not the good kind of communist either.

I'm studying the remnants of a tiny people village.  I'm looking through the entrance to the town and the welcome sign.

When I make pancakes, which is about once a week or so because like I already mentioned above, I'm a bit of an enthusiast - I like them to be thin.  Not so thin that they're crepes mind you, after all I'm an Irish lad not a French garcon, but I don't like them to be super thick and fluffy.  If they get to be too thick, then you can really only have one or two pancakes for breakfast and that's just not enough to fulfill my pancake appetite.  I like to be able to knock off five, six, sometimes seven pancakes in one morning.  Seven is a good round number.  I'd go so far as eight, but I'd hate to look like a pancake glutton.  What would our darling Aunt Jemima think of me?

It's also important to use a non-stick frying pan when making pancakes.  You don't want those bad boys sticking to the pan and falling apart on you.  No, a perfect pancake needs to keep it's perfect figure, much like a sexy lingerie model, looking you directly in the eyes as if to say, "Hi.  I saw you standing there.  I want you to ravage me."

I get shudders just thinking about those perfect pancakes.

Where was I?  Right.  Going to the museum.

So once my pancakes were finished and on the table, I sat down and gazed at them.  Marveled at them really.  They were a thing of inexplicable beauty.  I light dusted them with some margarine - I'm too cheap to buy real butter - and then slowly glazed them with the Aunt Jemima syrup.  (sir-up!)

They looked so pure and innocent that I almost couldn't bring myself to cut off that first bite.  Did my pancakes have feelings?  I made a little half frowny face at my plate, all the while trying to decide if I really should be eating this wonderful creation.  What would you do?  Imagine yourself face-to-face with the Mona Lisa herself.  Would you kiss her?  I'm talking about the real Mona Lisa here, not that silly painting.  Who wants to kiss a bunch of paint?  Weirdos, that's who.

I finally decided to just eat the pancakes.  If I didn't someone else would probably come along and break into my house while I was at the museum and then eat them from right out under me.  That would be a bastard thing to do, to steal someone else's lovely breakfast like that, so I shoveled the pancakes into my mouth, one at a time until they were all devoured and in my stomach.  The initial work was done.  My part was over.  The rest was up to my stomach acids to take care of.  They rarely disappoint me.  We have a good working relationship, and I love them so.

I wore a winter jacket, because it was cold outside.

I rinsed off my plate because if I didn't then I'd have a hard time doing the dishes later.  Dried-on syrup is tough to get off, especially when it's of such high quality as Aunt Jemima.  I contemplated just doing the dishes right there and then because all I had was my plate, the frying pan, and my coffee cup and - - oh no!  I had forgot to make some bacon to go along with my pancakes.

Boy was I stuck in a pickle.  Do I make a small side of bacon to eat after I'd already had my pancakes?  Should I keep the museum waiting any longer?  I do like bacon.  It's like opening up a birthday card from a cheap relative that you don't expect to have any money in it and then - BAM!  Five dollar bill!  That's how good bacon is.

I contemplated.  Thought about it.  Mused the idea.  Let the notion roll around in my mind a bit.  I was starting to get a bit too warm at this point.  After all, I had been wearing my winter jacket since this whole breakfast thing started.  I decided to save the bacon for another day.  A special day.  Maybe Veteran's Day.

Now was the time to go to the museum!

Then I went to the museum, and a few hours later came home and went to bed.

The end.

- ryan