The other day we were in West Hollywood, walking after eating sushi at Jinpachi. I saw a frozen yogurt place and I said, “Oooh let’s get some frozen yogurt.” That’s not something I often say; in fact, I’m much more likely to say, “Oooh let’s get some ice cream.” Only, this being West Hollywood, ice cream isn’t really an option. Frozen yogurt is where it’s at because frozen yogurt, presumably, keeps everyone trim and muscular and sexually attractive.
In the dark of a movie theater, as the opening credits scroll across the screen, you’ll see me in my seat engaging in a strange ritual. It begins by removing a single Sour Patch Kid from my box of Sour Patch Kids, holding it up to the light, and evaluating its color. Depending on whether it’s a red/orange or a green/yellow, I either pop the candy immediately into my mouth or press it aggressively into the space between the plastic bag inside the box and the box itself. At the end of the movie, I have a bellyful of reds and oranges and a boxful of greens and yellows. This, I’ve come to realize, is no way to live.
My friend Lisa’s getting married at the end of the month and, earlier this year, when she registered at Crate and Barrel they gave her that heart-shaped glass bowl you see above. On my birthday, in February, she re-gifted it to me. “Adam, I want you to have this,” she said, handing me the box. I unwrapped it eagerly and then stared at it. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I snapped, ungratefully.
Here’s a neat post featuring 25 logos with hidden messages. My favorite is, of course, the food-related one: check out the bear in the mountain of Toblerone. [via Metafilter]
A round of applause, please, to my followers on Twitter who wrote most of the text for the candy hearts in this month’s banner–brilliantly illustrated, as usual, by Lindy. (Can’t see the banner? Clear your cache and re-load the site.) A special shout-out to my friend Katy who contributed THOUSANDS of ideas and to Amanda Hesser who came up with “You Had Me At Jello.” Make sure to subscribe to my Twitter feed (just go to www.twitter.com/amateurgourmet) and maybe you’ll see your ideas in next month’s banner.
And special thanks, as usual, to Leah & Justin for doing all the dirty technical work to make this banner possible. The A.G. Team is the best.
You may have already seen this, but there’s a new product called Bean Boozled with two sets of identically colored-jelly beans: one that’s a traditional jelly bean and one that’s truly nasty. See the chart:
Honestly, if I had to choose between buttered popcorn and rotten egg I’m not sure which I’d pick. I HATE buttered popcorn jelly beans.
The other night at Chip Shop in Park Slope with Kirk, James and Diana we’d stuffed ourselves silly with fried fish, fried potatoes, and fried beer (ok, the beer wasn’t fried). Then Kirk tried to kill us. “Who wants to share deep fried Twix bars? They’re awesome.” In all my years of adventurous eating, I’d never had a deep fried candy bar. So I said I was game. So was James and, eventually, Diana. Here’s what they brought out, photo by James:
First of all, kudos to Chip Shop on their thoughtful presentation (notice how they’re stacked and dusted with powdered sugar?) Second of all, look at Kirk’s beer: he had a Monty Python Holy Ale. I took a sip and it made me say Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni!
Anyway, after staring for a bit we finally lifted our forks and dove in. And OH MY LORD: you have no idea what you’re in for when it comes to a deep fried candy bar. It’s not just sick, sweet decadence: it’s much more than that. The chocolate and caramel MELT within the crispy batter so that it becomes almost unrecognizable in its goodness, like a whole new category of sweets you never knew existed. Words fail me now. All I can say, is if you’ve never had a deep fried candy bar you really should. I plan to have one every day until I die which, if I really have one every day, may happen sooner rather than later. You’re all invited to say “Ni” at my funeral.
