To Morsel Institute Visitors: Effective February 7 2005, The Morsel Institute will meld with our all-purpose patriarchy-blaming blog, I Blame The Patriarchy.

Stuff Twisty Gets Outside Of
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Pee-Can Chicken January 5 2005

Recognize that cucumber salad? No wait, why should you? It's not like you actually give a crap what I eat. You should, of course, but you don't. Some friend you turned out to be.

Turkey on Sunflower Seed Bread January 5 2005

I eat a bloody fucking turkey sandwich for lunch only as a last resort, when having just a mound of potato salad for lunch would be too pleasurable.

 

 

Graham's 20 Year Tawny January 3 2005

I tooled up to Dallas for my mom's 70th birthday, and we took her out to dinner (see below). The evening ended in a stalemate. My mother ordered sea bass, even though she knows that ordering sea bass bums me out, and I ordered a glass of tawny, even though I know that ordering liquor bums her out.

Three Lobster Tails , White Truffle Risotto, Asparagus, Drawn Butter, Café Pacific, Dallas, January 3 2005

We took my mother to Café Pacific, an expensive and dowdy bistro in the expensive and dowdy Highland Park neighborhood. Café Pacific serves palatable examples of what used to be called Contintental Cuisine. I forgot to take the picture of my Continental Cuisine until I'd devoured two of the lobster tails. These days lobster is as common as boobs in beer commercials, but it used to be the luxe delicacy to order in one of these joints.

Weird Veg Plate: Blackeyed Peas, Pan-Roasted Broccoli, Onion Strudel January 2 2005

You know that Southern blackeyed-peas-for-New-Year's tradition? They're supposed to bring you good luck for the rest of the year? It's more than a tradition. It's an admonition. Eat the peas or else! Because what if, like I did, you fail to eat blackeyed peas on New Year's Day, having forgotten to cook them until January 2? What then? Will you just have the normal luck of a non-blackeyed pea-eating person? Or will the omission specifically generate bad luck all year? Or is it possible that the ritual is based on a fiction, and that blackeyed peas consumed on January 1 are not actually capable of influencing the futures of individual H. sapiens inhabiting the southern part of the United States one way or the other?


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