Christine Baskets room service order on a Baskets ep, catchin’ up.
The fries at Shake Shack are what I hoped Micro Magic fries would taste like, in my boyhood:
Anybody ever eat things? The packaging was attractive. They fooled me quite a few times.
Perhaps they failed in attempting to live up to an idea of a “fry.” A fry is firm, and Micro Magic just couldn’t get there. But they were making a salty mushed potato product that might’ve been attractive on its own terms.
A taxonomy error, perhaps.
Google led me to that image of Micro Magic fries on the website of New Adult Contemporary Romance author Jennifer Friess (don’t know if it’s a coincidence that her name is fries)
There was really a period there where the expectations put on the microwave were insane. Supermarkets were full of hallucinatory projections of what was gonna come out of the microwave.
the article that set me off was:
which caused my eyes to roll out of my head. I was just in Portland, and the food was awesome! It’s a “foodie paradise” because it’s in the Willamette Valley, on the Columbia River, near the North Pacific Ocean, one of the most bountiful regions on planet Earth, plus it’s prosperous and full of creative and interesting and diverse people.
Seemed hysterical to me to claim it had been ruined.
When I first heard the headline version of the story of the Portland Taco Cart Willamette Week Interview Fiasco, I thought “well that’s silly, how far are we taking this idea of cultural appropriation? of course you can make tacos.” But when I heard the details it was like oh ok that’s not very cool.
There was good discussion of it on “Good Food” with Evan Kleiman.
Following which I drove around for an hour or so doing my errands and thinking about it. Sometime later it comes up, shot my Twitter mouth off and RIP my mentions.
Twitter user put my response to McArdle better than I could:
Also gave me more to think about. I myself took advantage of the easygoing legal rules on map copying in my book, and used Google Maps as the basis for my hand-drawn maps. It felt fine, although I was surprised nobody protects cartographers.
Because there’s no legal protection for Mexican ladies making burritos who are trying to keep their recipe secret, that’s why it made people so mad. Kinda think Connelly and Wingus crossed the line, but whatever, maybe they just made an unfortunate remark in an interview. They don’t deserve death threats for heaven’s sake. Let’s wish them well and hope they make some cool new kind of burrito in the future that everyone can eat joyfully and without compunction.
Like Austin Kleon points out, there’s stealing and stealing.
2/5 udders. Weak, watery milk. Love the labeling, and “Forager Project” is powerful branding for these times. But I taste no evidence that God intended for us to milk the cashew.
A surprising 4/5 udders to filmjölk! I despise yoghurt, from its name to its texture to its sour bite it repulses me, but a shot of siggi’s filmjölk in the morning has been invigorating and probably good for my guts.
Would love to find some chestnut milk, which Charles C. Mann describes as “ambrosial”!
When you come across this book, it’s fun to take it down and open it at random and read about some guy. For instance, Caleb Jeacocke, debater and roll-maker: