Say it with me: sweet potato nachos. I’ve only eaten one Banh Mi. I choose one that didn’t have mayonnaise because mayo is my nemesis. I am attracted to the notion of the sandwich, but wary and fearful of mayo. So this mayoless tofu banh mi might be for me. Blackberry pie bars? I want to… Continue reading Links I Like
Tasting and Testing: Lay’s Potato Chips
I love to cook at home, but I also like to try all sorts of weird food products. I know that I shouldn’t like this. I know that it isn’t good for me sometimes, but the mouth wants what it wants. You know, I can’t decide whether or not I’m comfortable with that last sentence.… Continue reading Tasting and Testing: Lay’s Potato Chips
Candidate Cookies: Rick Perry
Candidate cookies are a quick look at the men and women who aspire to be President of the United States 2017-2020. Rick Perry’s cookie takes a look at some of Perry’s favorite things. Rick Perry plays the piano, so white and chocolate chips are used here to represent the ebony and ivory keys. He is
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One bowl blackberry corn muffins? Yes, please. I want to make this carrot coconut soup! These Hummus Pita Pizzas look pretty tasty. I might have to try this Chocolate Overnight Oatmeal Smoothie this week! I’ve made coconut butter before, and it was good. This take looks tasty! I have so many feelings about these… Continue reading Links I Like
In an open letter to the man who looked at my breasts hungrily, then made direct eye contact with me,
“I have never experienced a stare like that. You looked like you wanted to eat my bosom, literally, on a plate with fork and knife. Sir, you frightened me. I wanted to cradle my lady shelf in my arms. I felt a need to protect them. That and to walk faster.”
In an open letter to Bill Withers,
“Suppose that I Googled you so that I could look at photographs of you as a young man. I mean, you know, hypothetically. Had this happened, I would think about how that body makes me want to eat beans and cornbread, even though I eat my beans with rice. You’d make me want to branch […]
In an open letter to anyone who saw me in Qdoba earlier this week arching my back in a strange fashion,
“I know that I am responsible for my own actions, but it was the guy in the Qdoba who was hunched over his food with great commitment that made me contort myself. His daring curvature made me wonder if my body was capable of that range of vertebrate motion. Alas, it is not….”
In an open letter to Twitter,
“You do not bring out the best in me. Thankfully, this manifests itself more in the things that I read than in the things I say.”
In an open letter to Spike Lee,
“Watching your documentary about Hurricane Katrina has ruined my end-of-the-world, time-travel, Lyndon-Johnson-and-I-are-the-only-people-left-together-in-an-empty-airport scene that I like to imagine when I want to go to sleep. Now, sometimes when I try to conjure my very special, yet strangely chaste, LBJ lullaby, a good percentage of the time, I can only see the human suffering that occurred […]
In an open letter to the man who was clearly captivated by my ample bosom,
“So, the thing is that if you openly stare at my breasts while descending the stairs, it makes it very hard for me to resist wanting to see you tumble down said stairs. I want to be better than that. As a result, I kindly ask you to refrain from this open-mouthed gaping.”