Food: A Love Story

I like to think coffee comes from beans; therefore, it’s a vegetable.

I’m convinced that anyone who doesn’t like Mexican food is a psychopath.

I'm a fan of relaxing, and when i get tired of relaxing I like to do nothing.

I treat my body like a temple. A temple of doom, but a temple nonetheless.

Nobody believes in racial profiling until they get a red-haired sushi chef with a southern accent.

You ever talk to an old person? I mean a really, really old person. They always have this exhausted look on their face that says, I can’t believe I’m still here! I would’ve eaten so much more ice cream. Why did I ever consume kale?

In Wisconsin they have deep-fried cheese curds, which taste like French fries and heaven had a baby.

There’s an old Weight Watchers saying: “Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.” I for one can think of a thousand things that taste better than thin feels. Many of them are two-word phrases that end with cheese (Cheddar cheese, blue cheese, grilled cheese). Even unsalted French fries taste better than thin feels. Ever eat fries without salt on them? I always think, These could use some salt, but that would mean I’d have to get up and move. I guess I’ll just imagine there’s salt on them.

During December we are all ingesting, imbibing, and spending with a reckless abandon like a bachelor party on a guilt-free boondoggle. Everyone has the unspoken agreement that what happens in December stays in December.

When you go out to dinner, it is customary to order an appetizer in addition to the entrée. The appetizer is just an excuse for an extra meal. “Let’s see, I will start with the eighty buffalo wings, and do you have a low-cal blue cheese? Because I don’t want to fill up too much.” It would be embarrassing trying to explain what an appetizer is to someone from a starving country. “Yeah, the appetizer—that’s the food we eat before we have our food. No, no, you’re thinking of dessert—that’s food we have after we have our food. We eat tons of food. Sometimes there’s so much we just stick it in a bag and bring it home. Then we throw it out the next day. Maybe give it to the dog.

When I was ten years old I was actually given McDonald’s gift certificates for Christmas by my mom. Yes, my own mother. I guess she couldn’t find gift certificates for a vending machine. I like to think it was her way of saying, “Merry Christmas. Here are some coupons for poison.” McDonald’s introduced the gift certificate prior to the obesity epidemic. I’m not saying that McDonald’s gift certificates caused the obesity epidemic, but in retrospect, the timing is kind of suspicious.

The pig is converting a tasteless piece of fruit, essentially garbage, into one of the most delicious foods known to man. The pig has to be one of the most successful recycling programs ever. When you think about it, that is more impressive than anything Steve Jobs did.

My wife likes to pause before the meals with our kids and say grace. While I think this is a great opportunity for our children to learn to appreciate the gifts that God has given them, I view grace as kind of the “On your mark, get set …” and the “Amen” as the “Go!” I am pretty sure that’s the way God intended it.

Hot dogs are like strippers, really. Nobody wants to know the backstory. We don't want to think about how they came to be in their present form of employment. "Well, when I was twelve, my stepfather.." "Not interested! Put some mustard on that.

When I hear homestyle, I always think of some guy in his underwear standing next to a microwave. “You want me to nuke a hot dog for ya? I got some old Chinese in the fridge, but I think it’s my roommate’s.

Anyway, on this fine day I was looking for diapers when I saw a seventy-year-old man walking around the Kmart drinking something I realized later was a cup of KFC gravy. Now, in full disclosure, I love gravy. Who doesn’t, really? It’s gravy, after all … but I’ve never considered gravy a beverage. Even in my most private moments with gravy I’ve never contemplated taking a swig.

Often on the menu, oysters will be listed as “oysters on the half shell.” As opposed to what? “In a Kleenex?” Even the way you are supposed to eat an oyster indicates something counterintuitive. “Squeeze some lemon on it, a dab of hot sauce, throw the oyster down the back of your throat, take a shot of vodka, and try to forget you just ate snot from a rock.” That is not how you eat something. That is how you overdose on sleeping pills.

I prefer the Chinese restaurants that have the silverware on the table when you arrive, because there’s nothing more humiliating than starting with chopsticks and having to turn to the waiter and being like, “Uh, yeah, hi, uh, I’m too white. Do you have a shovel back there?

MAN 1: I’m hungry. MAN 2: Me too. Hey, I found a rock with a snot in it. I was thinking of eating it. MAN 1: Um, okay. Go ahead. MAN 2: (slurps up the oyster) MAN 1: What does it taste like? MAN 2: Pneumonia.

I think everyone is aware how disgusting snails are, and that’s why they are served in a bowl of wine and butter and called “escargots,” which is a French word loosely translated as “denial.

Ugh, I’m so full. I guess I’ll have some cheese. Hmm, I don’t even like this cheese. I guess I’ll finish it.

Fortune cookies are an American invention, and we gave it to them. The Chinese were probably like, “Uh, we don’t want it.” And we were like, “It’s now part of your ethnic identity.

I was only hit on once at the grocery store. I remember it was early one Saturday morning and I was buying my daily bacon, when I got tapped on the shoulder. I turned around and I saw a rather short and very feeble eighty-year-old lady looking up at me. She said in a weak, scratchy voice, "Excuse me, young man, could you reach up and grab some ketchup for me?" Well I'm no dummy. I know when I'm getting hit on. I smiled politely and reached up for the ketchup, knowing full well that she just wanted to get a gander at my derriere. As I handed her the ketchup, she said, "Thank you," like I was some piece of meat, a boy toy, or something. Finally I just blurted out, "Look, I'm married, lady!" She acted all surprised and confused. "Excuse me? I don't understand!" I shook my head with a smirk, raised my left hand, and showed her my wedding ring. "Married!" I loudly told her. "I'm taken!" A stock boy at the end of the aisle looked at us and inquired, "Is everything okay?" "I'm fine," I assured him. "I know how to deal with predators." Well, suddenly this sex-crazed lady got all angry at me. Like I was out of line. She huffed off. "Well, I never!" "And you ain't gonna with me either, " I yelled after her. I have to admit, it was nice to get the attention.

There are people who eat only organic food, and then there are people who don’t have tons of money to waste.

In America we have gone way beyond sustenance. Eating is an activity. 'Why don’t we get lunch, and then we’ll grab some pizza.

What I especially love about Kmart is the ambience. I always feel like I’ve entered a store that was just attacked by a flash mob. Everything always looks and feels a little disheveled.

I don’t know much about grammar, but I think kale salad is what they call a “double negative.

It would be embarrassing trying to explain what an appetizer is to someone from a starving country. “Yeah, the appetizer—that’s the food we eat before we have our food. No, no, you’re thinking of dessert—that’s food we have after we have our food. We eat tons of food. Sometimes there’s so much we just stick it in a bag and bring it home. Then we throw it out the next day. Maybe give it to the dog.

I love the phrase "I have a sweet tooth." I always want to say, "You're ordering it for your tooth? That's interesting, because it's going straight to your butt. I think your butt owed your tooth an explanation.