A new low in culinary adventure

A recent feature in the local newspapers alerted me to the recent reinstatement of a withdrawn McDonald's product, the McRib; for a limited time, only available upto the 31st of december this year. Research on the internet aroused my curiosity and finally, today was the second-last day before the McRib goes to that big deep-fat fryer in the sky.

for these reasons, and against everything that I stand for, I found myself locking the bike in a McParking-lot, and walked into the jaws of the enemy.

The first thing I noticed was that the staff seemed to be composed from members of the same extended Hispanic family. I guess those guys were the franchisees too. After being handled in a very courteous manner by a slightly built lad of 17, who was being overseen by an aunt or sister or something, I was presented with a sort of lump wrapped in wax paper, which I quickly deduced was the infamous McRib itself(What, no oboes or trombones to announce its arrival??)

The McRib wasn't created as much as it was developed at the University of Nebraska, and has been sold in fits and starts over the past 15-20 years. The main ingredient is ground pork(what part of swine is used remains a mystery, but isn't that the fun thing about all ground meats?) that is compressed into the shape of a rack of spare-ribs and cooked under the same compression, ensuring that the proteins in the meat coagulate, and hold the patty in shape, eliminating the need for an additional binding agent. this component is then frozen and like every other McProduct, gets distributed to individual establishments, where it is re-heated and kept warm in a bath of tangy BBQ sauce, also used to coat the patty. Final assembly involves a soft white bun, a some slivered onions and gherkins.

After settling down and studying the decaying mass of fibre-less white bread, congealed and compressed by the heat from the mysterious meat patty, I closed my eyes and took my first bite...it tasted like (insert default McDonalds taste here) with spicy overtones provided by the BBQ sauce and gherkin pickle. Consuming the rest of the item with the same speed as the service in McDonalds, I reached for the napkin dispenser to wipe off the muck from my hands, and left the establishment.

On the way home, it felt like that I had accidentally swallowed a wine-cork, and it was stuck somewhere in my esophagus, and that wasn't surprising in the least, because that's what the sandwich tasted like - Cork.

God, I miss those kathi kababs...

When you're happy and you know it...

...clap your hands!
or so goes the slogan. but right now, I'm not quite overflowing with good cheer, since I have had to work a Sunday last week(a venture that cost me the same amount of money in taxi fares as I make in one day) and this week, I am working on a Saturday... well, that really does not explain my simmering discontent...after all, irregular work hours are the hallmark of the Hospitality Industry. I guess I need a little break. This may come through in the form of an open invitation to my bhuajee's vacation home in Palm Beach, where we may go to over the next weekend. Both of us are professionally quite satisfied with the progress of our jobs, but it's the absolute crashing boredom of doing nothing else except working, sleeping and eating that's beginning to get the best of us. There's only so much monotony one can stand before you blow a gasket.

In other news, I perchance happened to have an early day yesterday, so I jaunted into a Honda showroom to look at the new Honda FIT, a cute hatchback with a lot of bang for the buck. couldn't get a test drive though, since they were all sold out(these babies are going out the door as soon as the car-trailers pull in) but I'll get to drive one quite soon. I also went to the local Mazda dealer to drool over the Mazda3, and had a salesperson give me a complete financial breakup of a model that I don't particularly desire(Mazda3 i-Touring 2.0 4-speed automatic, Side Airbags and ABS option installed) instead of the model I really want(Mazda3 S-touring 2.3 5-speed automatic, ABS and 6 airbags standard), Because the former model makes more economic sense. we'll see how things work out soon enough....

Too much of a good thing

I am a Chocoholic.

It's one thing being a confirmed binger, out to get his next fix from a shiny dark square of pure 80% spliff, obtained at great financial risk. But when one works right next to the stuff, it gets bad. It gets worse when one of your co-workers is a chocolatier-in-the-rough, and lets you sample exotic varieties such as a red pepper infused 75% cocoa bar...

We work with bits of chocolate called 'callets', and the damned things are so small, you find yourself popping one or two or a half-dozen into your maws every now and then. there are also some nice truffle chocolates that are conveniently pilferable, plus the usual chocolate chips used in most of our cookies. At home lies my bar of Lindt 70%, devoured at the steady pace of one square a day.

Is it possible to die from an overdose of chocolate? Most chocolate contains higher-than-usual amounts of Iron, Copper, Zinc, Magnesium and Phosphorus. It contains Phenylethylamine, which is basically the cocoa version of the more popular Amphetamine. Another interesting compound found in chocolate is Anandamide, unique due to its resemblance to THC (tetrahydrocannabinol), a chemical found in marijuana. These reputable compounds tool around in your body to produce Dopamine, a neurotransmitter that gives pot-heads the 'high'. Even though the anandamide in chocolate helps to create feelings of elation, the effect is not the same as the THC, because THC is a party animal, and likes to mingle with a wider variety of receptors in your noggin. Also, THC is present in much larger amounts in weed, and it is estimated that it would take about 25 pounds of chocolate to achieve a similar high to that of marijuana!

Down and Out in Bradenton, FL

well, not really...I haven't become a vagrant or a bum, but I'm tottering pretty close to the edge here.
We were discussing the financial ramifications of purchasing a car over dinner tonight, and like so many dinners before, we arrived at the same conclusion. We simply cannot afford to have a car.

Now that's a very clear statement, but as the intelligent reader knows, there are no absolutes in life; except your birth and your inevitable death. In this case, 'cannot afford' can be whittled down to- "Yes, we could get a really economical car, pay the astronomical insurance charges, maintain it at a cost that makes me want to sell my kidney on Ebay, but at the end of the day, we're clean-bowled out for a Duck."
Life in America it seems, is determined to make us live hand-to-mouth, savings be damned. But that is how the rest of the citizenry seems to live here, even the relatively well-off included. My collegues at work are wont to comment on the emancipated status of their bank balances in the last days before the sluice-gates are opened, and the cash flows through. That's when think of the money I have struggled to save, and it makes me feel all fuzzy and warm inside...that warmth is replaced by a icy bitterness, whenever I happen to be at one of the many temples of consumerism, and I see all the things that I want to acquire....I salivate. I touch. I experience. I desire. I crave. I firmly force my rectal spinchter shut, lock my jaw, close my eyes and kill all want or need, and quietly go home.

Ri-post-e

My last post generated the following response from V, debater Par Excellence -

Think once again...
What should have been boycotted...?
A small town bar?
Or the institution of Justice which failed to act properly?
Tell me if you get my point..

The point, though well taken, is somewhat misguided in my opinion. By boycotting the institution of justice, we would have underlined the stagnation that had set into the judicial process, relegating the case to the annals of the Indian system of Justice, to be struggled over for several years more. Where would have the family of Jessica Lal found justice in that case?
Admittedly, the boycott of the small town bar, which by the way is also a source of livelihood for its employees; does raise some questions. But let me conclude by repeating that it is only a part of the whole sum of things that constitute justice. We may have seen this case through without resorting to the methods that my friend considers illogical and unnecessary.

By the way, it's not as if its killing me inside, that I went to a particular bar whose owner was a murderer. I feel bad about it, yes, but not THAT bad!