Look Who's Talkin': Comments, Quips, and Tips We Have Known and Loved
There's so much going on in Talk week to week that we almost can't keep up. If you're in the same boat, here's a small selection of topics and responses that have piqued our interest this week.
"As I attempt to develop my taste in wine, I have but two qualifications for purchase: 1) under $15 and 2) a funny name. This explains why I've drank so many bottles of Woop Woop and Fat Bastard. Even if it the taste isn't too great, it just feels good to say "gimme a little bit of that woop woop"." —Tanner
"Time to cease the bias against slender-challenged folks.
Demand that Wheat Fats be brought to market." —Obbop
""Hi, my name is John, and I'm an addict."
"It started when I wrote this post for Serious Eats about Manhattan Espresso Coffee Soda. I thought it was harmless, you know, just another writing gig. I drank a bottle, and thought it was okay. But then, a few days later, I walked by the shop where I bought the first one, and I, well, I .... I..."
"It's okay, John"
"I... I needed another. And another. Pretty soon, I was taking trips by that store all the time, just to get a fix of Espresso Coffee Soda. I can't stop. I have a big bottle in my fridge, my girlfriend's fridge. It's just... so damned good."
Yea, I'm hooked. I don't know what it is: the thick foamy carbonation reminiscent of a thick, italian espresso; the light, sparkly bubbles that dance on my tongue; or how roaring twenties the logo looks. Since I wrote about it 2 months ago, I've become a loyal customer, a fanatic, a minion of Manhattan. " —John M. Edwards
"I'm confused. I don't add crushed cadbury cream eggs to it? Or use it as stuffing for a roast chocolate chicken- carefully remove base of a hollow chocolate chicken, pipe in butter cake mixed with custard till gooey, and carefully rewrap with decorative foil?" —dashofginger
"@dashofginger: Have you been reading my diary? :-) No, stuff your face with it. " —cakespy
"To make things even more pre-French-ious, the "n" is silent and you pronounce the "roh" through your nose. FUN!
In fact, I found the sweetest video of Adam and Robyn trying to say it...
CUUUTE!!!" [ed note: we agree!]—usernameTK
"When I was 16 I was working as a hostess for a diner type place in Ashland, Oregon. I'd have to go into the fridge and refill huge tubs of butter, ready made salad dressings, and condiments. To get to the freezer from the front, I had to pass through the kitchen, which was disgusting. I mean... BBQ sauce on the tile walls, the cuttingboards were stained beyond recognition, fry oil everywhere, greasy cooks (who also had a hard time keeping their eyes to themselves... I've never been a bad looking kid)... So one evening it was about 11:30 and we were a half an hour from closing. All of the tables had been bussed and reset, the floors handled, the coffee pots cleaned out, and so it was time for me to break down the salad bar by taking all of the trays back into the kitchen fridge, cover them all with plastic wrap, date them, and clean out the half melted ice from the salad bar and bleach out the whole thing. I put all of the salad dressings on the cart to take them back first. I went into the kitchen and stopped for a minute to bend over and pick up my pad and pen that had fallen out of my apron when BAM... The door swung open wide and knocked the cart, and all of its contents, onto me. I was COVERED in salad dressing. Ranch, Blue Cheese, Honey Mustard, Catalina, Thousand Islands, Italian... EVERYWHERE. In my hair. ALL over my back. Down the crack of my ass. In my shoes. EVERYWHERE. The only part of me without salad dressing all over it was my face. When I looked up to see the younger of the two line cooks standing over me with his jaw on the floor, I can't tell you how badly I wanted to punch him in the face. Too bad the manager came in and broke the silence with laughter that would make the Muppets roll their eyes in shame. I had to call my Mom out of bed to bring me another set of clothes. I smelled like Thousand Islands for three days.
I know you didn't want to hear a story, but thats pretty much how it goes when you work in a crappy restaurant. Some days are OK, and other days you go home smelling like test tube food." [ed note: Another strike against bottled salad dressing and thank God for moms]—BitchinFixins