Coffee Table Declarations
Thursday, October 16, 2003
Did you ever notice yourself thinking about something weird and random as you're drifting off to sleep? Last night for some reason, I was surprised to find myself thinking about s'mores. Not just any s'mores mind you, but the ones we used to make in Girl Scout camp. There is just nothing like that delicacy.
Suddenly I was mentally transported back in time circa 1986 and saw myself in the middle of the woods outside of a cabin, surrounded by girls of all ages, waiting my turn to get close enough to the fire to toast my marshmallow that was now skewered on my carefully chosen stick. I might stop this reverie for just a moment to point out the fact that as young girls, we thought nothing of picking up a stick from the ground, using it to impale a marshmallow, and then transferring said marshmallow directly from stick to mouth. Describing that now, I feel like I'm brainstorming a future episode of Fear Factor rather than sharing an innocent memory from my childhood.
Nevertheless, those were simpler times, and I have not had something as tasty as a camp-out s'more either before or since. It's funny how certain things can spark a whole slew of remembrances, isn't it?
And since we're on the subject of food (which we often are these days) and for that matter, Fear Factor, I'd like to point out that recipes often call for a "dash" of something. Example #1: Add one pound of sheep eyeballs and a dash of poultry seasoning. Example #2: Use one container of poultry seasoning and just a dash of narcotics.
So what is a dash? What if a dash to you is a pinch between two fingers and a dash to me is several handfuls and then I try to make your recipe and fail miserably, even though I follow the instructions to a T? Isn't it amazing that as a society, we have all sorts of unwritten rules and unspoken agreements about what to do, say, and think? Therefore, we all know what a "dash" is, even though no one ever explained it to us, and luckily, there is almost no chance of screwing up a recipe by virtue of a misinterpreted dash.
Suddenly I was mentally transported back in time circa 1986 and saw myself in the middle of the woods outside of a cabin, surrounded by girls of all ages, waiting my turn to get close enough to the fire to toast my marshmallow that was now skewered on my carefully chosen stick. I might stop this reverie for just a moment to point out the fact that as young girls, we thought nothing of picking up a stick from the ground, using it to impale a marshmallow, and then transferring said marshmallow directly from stick to mouth. Describing that now, I feel like I'm brainstorming a future episode of Fear Factor rather than sharing an innocent memory from my childhood.
Nevertheless, those were simpler times, and I have not had something as tasty as a camp-out s'more either before or since. It's funny how certain things can spark a whole slew of remembrances, isn't it?
And since we're on the subject of food (which we often are these days) and for that matter, Fear Factor, I'd like to point out that recipes often call for a "dash" of something. Example #1: Add one pound of sheep eyeballs and a dash of poultry seasoning. Example #2: Use one container of poultry seasoning and just a dash of narcotics.
So what is a dash? What if a dash to you is a pinch between two fingers and a dash to me is several handfuls and then I try to make your recipe and fail miserably, even though I follow the instructions to a T? Isn't it amazing that as a society, we have all sorts of unwritten rules and unspoken agreements about what to do, say, and think? Therefore, we all know what a "dash" is, even though no one ever explained it to us, and luckily, there is almost no chance of screwing up a recipe by virtue of a misinterpreted dash.
