Friday, November 11, 2011

Hell in a Handbasket

The world is going to hell in a hand basket. The world economy is collapsing, Penn State is a den of perverts ... and then ... the Elbow Room. When we arrived for our regular Friday night hamburger,Vic was waiting for us with the saved Minneapolis Tribune newspaper for our reading pleasure. Rachel, the waitress, knows what we want, only stops by our booth to confirm it. All is normal and right with the world, right? Wrong. After my cheeseburger with fried onions and a side of deep-fried onion rings - done crispy, I surprised even myself by ordering a desert - the local delicacy, strawberry rhubarb pie. Obviously it is seasonal, so I expected it to be frozen.  But it was even worse. Mary used to bake the pies at home and bring them in to the cafe in the morning. The looong arm of health regulation finally has reached out and saved us from ourselves. Mary can't do that anymore. Her kitchen has been deemed unsafe, unclean, and unhealthy - it just ain't safe. Instead of a flaky, lard based crust rolled by hand, encasing fresh rhubarb and strawberries, the pie came from Sysco, Inc. The crust was a cardboard based product and the filling was pink goo with a slight hint of artificial strawberry/rhubarb flavoring.  But it was safe. :-(

When I got home, I had a waiting email from L.P. confirming a breakfast date for tomorrow morning at Trumble's, where they have a full time baker who prepares all variety of things that will probably kill me in the long run. At least it'll be real food that takes me out.

5 comments:

Oldfool said...

Yeah but that crap from Sysco is made with your best interest in mind isn't it?

Gunnar Berg said...

Honestly, I don't know if it was Sysco. It might have been International MegaPies, Inc.

Jesus Harold Christ said...

A glass of fine Australian shiraz will cure you.

Gunnar Berg said...

Harold, that's a catchy name.

Tom G. said...

Thank goodness that Big Corporations, and their toady Big Government are watching out for our interests. I shudder to think of the danger we might get ourselves into without them.