Sear is back at it – this time with some fascinating new information on everyone’s favorite guilt-ridden pastry.
I don’t know about you, but I kind of want a doughnut.
Bene scribete.
Tag Archives: food
Peanut Butter
Crunchy, creamy, hue of wood.
Salty, spready, really good.
Mash those peanuts to a paste.
Smear it on – enjoy the taste!
Peanut butter is really good. Not exactly really good for you, though.
So you’ll find certain brands sold with certain key factors reduced or removed to mitigate the guilt – sodium free, sugar free, even fat free.
Until a couple days ago, however, I would not have expected to encounter an utterly, indigestibly calorie free peanut butter.
*Contains Trace Calories
There’s something mildly creepy about the notion of eating something as rich as peanut butter (or an approximation thereof) that’s so dietarily insubstantial that your body doesn’t derive any energy from it. I mean, it’s technically not even food at that point. (>^-‘)>
…
…
…O.K., yeah, I’d probably try it, though.
Bene edite.
When Are Bagel?
My favorite local bagelry went under and got bought out by Blue Sky a few months back. Sad times for the local place, which was really good, but Blue Sky is pretty good too.
This sign they have up, however – at least how I choose to read it – may be a trifle psychotic.
Blue Sky Bagel.
Now………Bagel.
It’s the dramatic pause that the space indicates, only to be followed up by redundancy and questionable grammar. Good stuff.
Yeah.
Bene scribete.
Frown Circles
Berry Oreos
Seem like a tasty notion.
This is not the case.
I like different flavored Oreos (mint, chocolate, peanut butter – they’re all great). Raspberry and chocolate together are kind of fantastic. So a raspberry oreo seems like a winning combination, right?
Nabisco disagrees. Instead, they figure a hypersweet powdery paste of Trix and Cap’n Crunch berries between Oreo wafers would be a better idea.
It is not. Just so you know.
Bene edite.
Cheesecakesicle
Cheesecake on a stick.
Covered in chocolate and nuts.
World, what hast thou wrought?
A full slice of cheesecake. Stuck onto a little wooden rod. Dipped in chocolate and crushed peanuts. Then frozen.
It…it was good.
Stop judging me…
Bene scribete.
Have Some Ice Cream
It’s getting warm out there.
Bene edite.
When Pancakes
I like it when pancakes happen.
I like it when pancakes don’t.
I could use one to chisel a map in,
But I won’t.I like it when pancakes steeple.
I like it when pancakes slant.
I’d make pancakes for all of the people,
But I can’t.I like it when pancakes given.
I like it when pancakes got.
You may think that by pancakes I’m driven,
But I’m not.
No, really. I mean, they’re just pancakes.
Bene scribete.
Sadcake
The other week at KFC,
The clerk gave me a cake for free;
It looked so moist and chocolatey,
This ridgy little round.But when I took it home with me
And set it on my grocery,
It slid off as I turned the key
And smashed against the ground.
Lame.
Bene scribete.
Public Service Announcement: “Goldfish Mac & Cheese”
Goldfish Mac & Cheese?
Beware, my friends – it’s a trap;
Sadness lives in here.
I suppose I should start by saying that I’m not a big fan of dry-box macaroni and cheese (really, Stouffer’s frozen stuff is the only pre-made kind of any sort I find to be worthwhile). The other day at the grocery, however, I saw that Pepperidge Farm had decided to throw its hat into the game, and at that very moment I was apparently hungry enough to think, “Hey, Pepperidge Farm makes some really good stuff (mmm, Milanos), so this might actually be decent!” It was a long day, and Goldfish Crackers in creamy pasta-y form sounded kind of good, all right?
…stop judging me. (>^-‘)>
Anyway, I was feeling adventurous enough to try the “pizza” kind, so I whipped up a batch thereof. The smell…was frightening.
And then…and then I tasted it.
Now, I don’t know in whose mind this substance could taste like pizza. Or cheese. Or food, for that matter. No, the flavor was more akin to dark, tangy, bitter misery. To wit, if you were to subtractively combine Top Ramen with Totino’s party pizzas, this would taste cheaper still. I tried to drown it out with pepper and garlic, but even so I was only able to stomach a few bites before throwing the rest away – something I am typically loath to do with any food, no matter how inexpensive.
But as those few bites sat upon my tongue, I found myself wondering who “Goldfish Mac & Cheese” could possibly be for, as I was unable to imagine any person who would simultaneously actually exist and enjoy its taste. Even if I were to expand my consideration to theoretical people, and the basis for one such theoretical person (from which all other characteristics were derived) proposes that he is someone who would enjoy “Goldfish Mac & Cheese”, I can only conclude that he would also hate it. It just made me angry at food in general for the rest of the day.
So I guess all I’m really trying to say is that, if you happen to find yourself in a position where you might consider putting Pepperidge Farm’s “Goldfish Mac & Cheese” into your body, well, you’ve just got to not do it, that’s all.
Bene scribete.
Nightmare Fudge
Yep, it’s green.
But WAIT! This isn’t a recipe ‘blog!
Well, shut up, you (AKA me). Because…whatever and stuff.
Sometimes snacks are nice when writing, O.K.?
Anyway, I used to make fudge a lot. It tastes nice. But making fudge the “proper” way involves uncommon ingredients like extra-fine baking sugar, evaporated milk, and marshmallow goop; it also requires precise temperatures, and can generally be kind of an ordeal. Recently, however, I came across the notion of using canned frosting as a fudge base. It sounded a little crazy, but the basic makeup is pretty similar, so I thought I’d give it a try.
It turned out…like fudge. And was actually pretty dang good. I’m not sure whether to be indignant about having done things the hard way all this time, or excited about the possibilities of this method. Probably both.
Want to give it shot? Here’s what you’ll need:
That’s it. Seriously. A 12oz bag of chocolate chips, and a 15.6oz can of blue vanilla “Funfetti” frosting (for some reason the store didn’t have any regular vanilla frosting, so fine, thought I – I’ll just make it a thing).
Prepare as such:
- Melt the frosting in a sauce pan until it’s just about bubbling, stirring constantly.
- Mix in the chocolate chips until you have a nasty, homogeneous green paste (I use a beater prong for this type of stuff).
- Remove the pan from heat and keep stirring as it thickens (it tends to want to separate).
- Pour in the sprinkle things from the frosting (how are you supposed to open that sub-lid, anyway?)
- Dump the mixture into a foil-lined 8×8 pan or pie tin (it should come out in a mostly-clean, cohesive glop) and smooth it out.
- Refrigerate for a couple of hours.
- Lift the fudge block out with the foil, turn it over, and dump it onto a plate or cutting board.
- Chop the block into haphazard chunks, stick ’em in a Ziploc bag, and store at room temperature.
And thus you will have the easiest fudge ever. Which happens to be horrifyingly green. With multicolored crunchy splotches.
Bene edite.
Writin' Fish 