Leftovers From the Future

We have several systems in the Flanigan house. I just wish one of them was a working system of indoor plumbing, especially in the winter. Brrr. Anyway, our leftover system is very simple. If any leftovers remain in the refrigerator for more than a couple days, I eat them. And any open jars that are put into the refrigerator should have the date they were opened written on them. As my youngest daughter looked in the refrigerator yesterday for some opened pasta sauce to add to some leftover pasta of hers that she knew I had been eyeing, we were both stumped when she encountered this jar’s lid with a curious inscription.

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If Meat is Murder, Then What is Dairy?

Maybe robbery? I’m not sure, but I am certain that I do try and avoid eating meat, primarily for religious reasons as I am an ordained Dudeist priest. But it is also a super-healthy way to avoid eating very tasty, enjoyable food. So, when I got the call to do a taste test for a plant-based food, I was all in. Plant-based eats and paying me money to shovel them into my pie-hole? It was too good to be true. I headed over to pick up my food for an at-home taste test.

As I drove over to the testing facility, my mind spun with all the plant-based food possibilities. Maybe it would be a savory rump roast made entirely from chickpeas? Or, perhaps it was a complete Thanksgiving dinner molded out of ground brussel sprout meal.

Instead, it was this …

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I Was a Coronavirus Zombie

Schools are closed. Bars and restaurants are supposed to close at the end of business today. Hey, what about restaurants that are open 24/7? Do they have to abide by the ban if they don’t close today? Food and paper products are in short supply. I know my family is debating if they should eat me now while I am still fat in order to conserve the rest of the food in the house.

I took matters into my own hands last night at 10PM as I went out to feed. Just to clarify, I pretty much self-quarrantine every winter after dark. Last night I felt like I had been turned into a coronavirus zombie, going out after dark to feed when there would be no lines. Oops, I was an hour early. It turns out that many others had the same idea around 10PM. I kept to myself, huddled in a fetal position on a barren shelf in the canned vegetable aisle next to a solitary can of okra until the crowd cleared a bit by 11PM.

This is one of the first sights that greeted me when I walked in …

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Fun with Food

I’ve always had fun with food. My kids, nephews, and nieces were always entertained/embarrassed/embarrassed for me when I took on a challenge like this …

Bluto eating.gif

As I’ve aged/matured/slightly spoiled, I have toned down my gastronomic games. However, I stumbled onto a great new way to have fun with food.

I found this in the freezer …

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Easter or Passover or Random Cookies?

My wife slightly overbaked some cookies that we were going to take for a family Easter gathering, so my daughter and I got to decorate those and keep them. Score! No, I did not add 5 minutes to her timer. In addition, my wife was thoughtful enough to bake the random dough shapes that were leftover after using the cookie cutter. I was thrilled to see this one.

Cookie NJ

No, the NJ does not stand for No Jesus in honor of the Easter story that says they found his tomb empty. It stands for something else.

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Foment the Ferment

My oldest daughter always tries to get me meaningful Christmas gifts. For example, last year she knew I was trying to eat healthy, so she bought me an herb garden. I still haven’t used it. I just haven’t had the thyme, but I hope to soon.

Wow, what a way to start the New Year, with a bad dad joke. But murder is no joking matter. This Christmas, my first-born bought me this gift which had me convinced that she may be trying to murder me.

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I Crossed the Pizza Gods Once Again & Lived to Blog About It

When last we left my discount pizza shopping, the pizza gods had taken great delight in smiting me. I got smote or smited or smitten or something bad. The pear plus blue cheese combination I bought on clearance just did not work. Maybe simply for the sake of blogging, I went back to the well once again and purchased this discounted bargain bin offering.

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I know it says ‘flatbread,’ but we covered that in the first blog post. It’s pizza. Looks okay, but take a closer look at those ingredients.

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Pear Pair Less Than Fair Fare

I bought this clearance flatbread because that’s just what I do if I see food on clearance.

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But flatbread, that basically means pizza, so this was a pear and blue cheese pizza. Think about that for a minute. How many times have you ordered pizza like, “Give me a large cheese and pear pizza to go. Oh, and make the cheese blue?”

It gets worse. Take a closer look.

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In a Jam Over Jelly

Yesterday, my wife was grousing about not enough grape jelly being left in the jar to make her peanut butter & jelly sandwich. I made the mistake of pointing out that there were other jelly flavors in the refrigerator. I guess “ew” is my wife’s official positions on jelly flavors other than grape. I made the mistake of offering up yet another suggestion, this time to scrape out the grape jelly accumulated right under the rim. Apparently, the under-the-rim jelly is gross, even though it is grape. I pressed my luck and suggested to my wife that she is a food elitist. She mentioned that she is not the person in the house that has eaten from the garbage, not so subtly suggesting that would be me. She’s right about me and garbage food, but I also think she proved my point that she’s the food elitist. Garbage is one of my favorite food groups. “You aren’t going to throw that out” is my favorite line at home. Well, she is at least as much of a food elitist as anyone can be who eats peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.

Is This Really an Edible Thing?

As I traveled through central America on business this past week, I encountered a strange food choice. No, not roasted tarantula.

tarantula

I wasn’t in Central America, but central America. Yes, St Louis again. Sigh! I was at the counter of a Jack in the Box fast food restaurant. Although that is a misnomer as I have found that fast food outside of greater Chicagoland is not really fast. In Chicago, we expect someone to be holding our bag of food next to the counter person BEFORE we even place our order. Once I get outside the greater Chicago area, life slows down a bit and I have gotten used to waiting for my “fast” food.

And wait I did at this Jack in the Box. All hell was breaking loose as I waited for my fish sandwich with about 15 other people waiting for their food. At one point, the counter dude yelled out “Who’s angry and wants a refund?” While I waited bemusedly, my eagle eyes spotted this sign about 10 feet directly in front of me at the counter …

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I Overestimated My Squash Ability

No, not playing squash. Eating it. I thought I was being so healthy, buying a spaghetti squash that I planned to prepare for lunch. And so I did. A little olive oil, some garlic salt, some pepper, and it baked into a tasty treat. The problem is, the squash I ate looked like this …

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