What kind of person hates food? The sole act of eating is, in my humble opinion, one of the greatest activities of all time, even besting fan favorites like going to the movies, petting puppies, and hardcore hallucinogenic drug trips (although depending on your personal preferences, that last one might fall into the category of “eating” too). But, I wasn’t always such a voracious food junkie. As shocking as it may seem, I was one of the most motherfucking pickiest eaters of all time when I was a kid. I would go to family BBQs and not only refuse hamburgers, but also grilled hot dogs (because everyone knows that boiling meat is the best way to go). My classic Subway go-to was a turkey sub on white bread. Just turkey and bread. Can you guess what condiments I liked to put on my food? If you guessed “Fucking Nothing”, then congrats, come see me after the blog for a surprise prize (Ironically, the prize is also the answer to a previous question).
“Honey, we just won a lifetime supply of anorexics!”
But sometimes, just like that previous joke, food can be too convoluted for someone to actually enjoy. For example, the Cronut. Not content with the heart-stopping butter of a croisant, or the diabetes inducing sugar of a donut, some jackholes decided to merge the two together to create a Frankenstein’s Monster that will kill you quicker than…well, Frankenstein’s Monster. But luckily, most people have the common sense to just avoid the Cronut, and it’s quickly falling into the realm of bad idea obscurity. OH WAIT. NO IT ISN’T. People line up at 6:00am every day just to buy a single one! Only around 200 are made a day, in what I assume is an unconscious attempt on the baker’s part to rectify his plummeting moral karma of unleashing these death-bombs in the first place.
Photo Credit to my friend Joanna, who I assume is no longer with us.
The Cronut is just another entry in the long line of the ever popular “foods being turned into other foods” category. A few years ago Krispy Kreme got in on the action with the Krispy Kreme Cheeseburger, because apparently they weren’t meeting their monthly quota of heart attacks caused. Look, if there’s one thing I’ve always said my glazed donut needed, it’s meat. (Not a euphemism). Or who could forget the classic Turducken, which skips the pastry entirely and just decides to cram as much meat as possible into an enclosed location (that also happens to be meat). Not only does it have the unfortunate, if not prophetic, privilege of having the word “turd” directly in its name, it also happens to have a striking resemblance to photos of my birth. And of course, there’s always the KFC Double Down, which takes the concept of replacing all other essential food groups with pure meat and then ups the ante and fries the fucker in a bid to finally justify calling an inanimate object pure evil.
“Feed Me, Seymour!”
Look, it’s ok to enjoy a variety of foods, but that doesn’t mean you need to eat all of them at the same time. Just because you like two separate things doesn’t mean they are inherently good together (A lesson my little brother learned after I forced him to eat a Pesto-covered Chocolate Cupcake on his birthday). Honestly, at this point I’m just waiting to see when someone comes out with a combination of pancakes, meat and chocolate. Because that would just be – Oh. Well, fuck.