Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Give Me Donuts, Or Give Me Death!

 I don’t talk much about politics, but just to show I’ve always paid attention, I uncovered this piece from way back in 2012. I think you’ll find me on the cutting edge of activism:

 

News has come that New York City Mayor Bloomberg wants to ban supersized sugary drinks, as a way to combat malnutrition.

He also signed a proclamation for NYC Donut Day.

Sometimes it just writes itself.

(Oh, another note of irony: I brought up several internet articles to familiarize myself with the Bloomberg Big Belly Ban, and the very first one was preceded by one of those annoying internet ads – for Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.)

The BBBB would apply to any bottled soda or fountain drink over 16 ounces that contains more than 25 calories per eight ounces, which is pretty much all of them. They’d be outlawed at restaurants, sports venues, street vendors, and – brace yourselves – movie theaters. Gasp! Next they’ll be taking my large buttered popcorn.

But those goobers won’t get it without a fight.

No word on whether the 17 ounce Big Gulp will be available in government offices, but grocery stores and convenience stores would be exempt. Apparently large soft drinks sold there are not dangerous.

The good news is, banning things that are bad for us is always effective, and always, always works. Just ask the people who pushed Prohibition.

Well, they can have my Slurpee when they pry it from my cold, sticky hands.

If they criminalize supersized Cokes, only criminals will be truly refreshed.

Family reunions are a great place to exercise my right to choose.

When Bloomberg came for cigarettes, nobody spoke (because they were busy coughing). When he came for trans fats, nobody stood up (because they were too heavy to get to their feet). Now they come for sugary drinks, and who will stand up for Mr. Pibbs? Has the medical field even debated this? Did anyone ask Dr. Pepper?

Give me Mountain Dew, or give me death! And not Diet Mountain Dew, either. It tastes like artificially sweetened sheep dip.

The Founding Fathers would be horrified. The whole reason they settled in the New World is because the British wouldn’t let us sweeten our tea.

“One lump or two?”

“How dare they alter our national beverage? Off with their heads!”

Then we formed an independent country, so we could have southern style sweet tea. Thomas Jefferson wrote that right into the Declaration of Independence, along with a clause about fried chicken and gravy. Both were removed by a rather grumpy New York delegate named Samuel Chase, whose wife had just put him on a diet.

Say, do you suppose that’s it? Maybe Bloomberg’s just steamed because his wife has him eating fish and asparagus.

The Founding Fathers really would be horrified, as this kind of nanny state thinking is exactly what the Constitution was meant to prevent. It demonstrates that their written guide for the country is more relevant now than ever, despite the food stains.

Rumor has it the Founding Fathers fueled their revolutionary ardor with God’s snack: S’Mores.

Benjamin Franklin would be especially upset, as he’s been known to upturn an extra-large mug of mead himself, from time to time. Franklin, who famously said wine is proof that God loves us, and wants to see us happy, would have loved one of those fountain drinks that you need to haul around in a cart. Ben Franklin would have punched Bloomberg right in the nose. Well, maybe not … Ben would probably have slept with Bloomberg’s wife. He was into all sorts of excesses.

I’m not so sure about Thomas Jefferson’s reaction. He believed in personal freedoms (unless you were one of his slaves), but also had a huge vegetable garden that he took great pride in. He grew over 250 varieties of more than 70 different vegetable species, in a garden 1,000 feet long. His children hated him.

Once, Jefferson sent John Adams a sampling of twenty different types of lettuce. Adams wrote back: “Tom, would you relax and have a friggin’ donut? I’ll bet you can’t find twenty different varieties of donuts.” (This was before Krispy Kreme.)

Still, they would have agreed that no mayor of York, old or new, had the right to come over and tell them how many lumps they could put in their tea. Should you stop drinking huge sugary drinks? Of course. Should we bow to a government telling us we have to? Hell, no.

We can’t have true freedom without independence. A nanny state, by definition, is a lack of independence. I may disapprove of what you eat, but I will defend to the early death your right to pork rinds.

Yes, there have to be some limits in an orderly society, but we must draw a jittery line in the sand, with one of those big soda straws. Our voices, strengthened by a sugar rush, should shout out that we can be convinced to be healthier, but not be force fed. And, to paraphrase Franklin Delano Roosevelt, we would rather die on our Frostie than live on our salads.

Now. If you’ll excuse me, it’s time for a little non-violent protest. Supersize me.

Is this a great country, or what?



Find a snack you can eat while web surfing, so you can find us here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: 
https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

A Chocolate Revolution

 Now, before you panic (like I did), keep in mind that this dire prediction has been made before. I even wrote about it in a past column:

https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/2014/03/a-chocolate-lovers-worst-nightmare.html

The prediction: a chocolate shortage.

Okay, you can go ahead and panic now.


 

Yeah, it didn't prove to be so bad after 2014, but this is 2023. Everything is proving to be bad in 2023.

The reason for the shortage is, of course, climate change. About two-thirds of the world's entire supply of cocoa comes from Ivory Coast and Ghana in Africa. We think of Africa as a dry place, but West Africa had been getting way more rainfall than usual, leading to the lowest cocoa harvests in decades. The rain makes cocoa flowers fall off before they can bud, and can also cause a cocoa-killing fungi.

As if that wasn't bad enough, there's a sugar shortage thanks to the climate condition called El Nino. So with two of the main ingredients in short supply, major candy manufacturers are raising prices to compensate for a 46 year high in cocoa value. And worse, just before Christmas. What are the odds?

Hm. Just before Christmas. What are the odds?

This is giving me S'More ideas.

 

I'm smelling a rat, here, instead of a chocolate bunny.

What if it's a conspiracy, designed to put money into the pockets of fat chocolate industrialists. (I'm not being insulting: I just assume anyone who deals with chocolate all day may end up fat.) Maybe they're hoarding all the cocoa and sugar, to make the prices go up? What if the Bilderberg meetings were nothing more than an organized plan to get chocolate into the hands of its members? (which would require a napkin, of course.)

I can see them all sitting around, dipping chocolate into a chocolate fountain, chortling in the way bad guys do. That's why Bill Clinton went over there, to donate his supply of chocolate after Hillary bugged him to eat better. Their Number One is probably a guy named CocoaFinger. Where's James Bond when you need him?

"CocoaFinger, do you expect me to talk?"

"No, Mr. Bond! I expect you to snack! Try the left Kit Kats, they're so much better than the right ones."

Even 007 loves homemade brownies. Stirred, not shaken.

 

Look, we've put up with pandemics, wars, and so many idiots in Washington that the whole town looks like a Three Stooges movie. I'm done putting up with things. Do they think we'll sit idly by while they stockpile Wonka Bars that rightfully belong in my mouth? I mean,our mouth? Mouths?

It's time for a revolution.

Let's make the illuminati illuminate their secret society Snickers silos, stat. We want free M&Ms, not Free Masons! And quickly, before we all waste down to Skull and Bones! The Knights Templar don't scare us, and neither would a visit from the Men In Brown. All we're scared of is low blood sugar. They can have our chocolate when they pry it from our sticky, delicious hands!

We will not go quietly into vanilla flavored desserts!

We will not let our chocolate vanish without a fight!

We're going to snack on. We're going to survive. Today we celebrate INTERNATIONAL CHOCOLATE DAY!

Okay, that's actually in September, but it's the principle.

Say, did anyone just hear the music from "Independence Day"?

 

 

Oh my gosh, the hidden chocolate supply--that's The Secret of Oak Island!





The Real First Thanksgiving, More Or Less

 Thanksgiving in America continues to be one of the most traditional holidays. It still features the original four hundred year old activities of overeating, football, and complaining about Black Friday.

In the Hunter household, as in all of Indiana and much of the world that’s not outside this country, we battle the overeating. How? By serving food that the rest of the year we hate. Stuffing stuff. Cranberry things. Pumpkin anything. It was good enough for the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag Indians, who the Pilgrims politely invited to share a meal in the new home they’d just stolen from the Wampanoag. The Indians brought a housewarming gift of deer, mostly because they didn’t want to eat cranberries or pumpkin.

But what was actually served at that original celebration? And did they really all sit down at long tables outside, in New England, in November? That’s a recipe for a nice heaping helping of frostbite.

The first Thanksgiving was a three day event, leaving one day each for the meal, football, and shopping. The Pilgrims were naturally dismayed to discover no mall or Wal-Mart in sight. Rumor had it there was a Target down the road, but both the trip and the name were a bit more dangerous at the time. They compensated by throwing another feast that third day, during which they discussed the football.

Roadside food was different, back then.


Governor William Bradford sent four men on a fowling mission beforehand. We don’t know for sure what they brought back, but it might have been turkey. It also might have been ducks, geese, or swans, which explains the song they invented about the meal and the entertainment. If it hadn’t taken so much time to memorize it, the song would have been “The Twelve Days of Thanksgiving”. That would have turned our holiday world upside down.

Why are game birds called “fowl”? Because they had no refrigeration. It was a warning: “Eat it fast, before it’s fowl!”

On a related note, this has carried over into football, which during the first Thanksgiving was so primitive it was watched on a black and white TV, with no remote control, or blimp. Whenever a player gets caught doing something that stinks, it’s called a foul. The spelling was changed during the Great Depression, when a letter shortage caused double U’s to be singled.
           
There was indeed an abundance of cranberries at the First Thanksgiving, mostly because the Natives used them as dye. (Good dye, although it tended to run in the washing machine.) By then the Pilgrims had run out of sugar, so there was no cranberry sauce or relish or anything cranberry. That’s one of the things they were thankful for.

Potatoes were … absent. The Spanish had discovered them in South America, but they weren’t popular with the English yet. Instead they probably had seafood—lobster, clams, oysters, all that stuff you find on the Thanksgiving menu today. Actually, these days the closest we get to that is either oyster dressing, or “see? Food!”

Pumpkin? Absolutely: in their pie, their coffee, donuts, milkshakes … kidding—Starbucks didn’t deliver. They did have pumpkins, but no butter or flour for any kind of crust. They may have hollowed out the pumpkins, filled the shell with milk, honey, and spices, and roasted them in hot ashes.

I’m not making this up. I get paid to do this research.

I'm celebrating as fast as I can!


I’m sure you’re all wondering what kind of beer they washed all this down with. I mean, Sam Adams, right? That’s the state beverage of Massachusetts. But no, it turns out they hadn’t had time to make beer, and didn’t yet have apples for cider, so they drank water. This helps explain all those Pilgrim paintings with dour expressions.

Add this to native foods like plums, grapes, leeks, and squash, and you get … *gasp* … a meal that’s good for you! It turns out health food nuts aren’t a new thing; it’s just that back then it was involuntary.

Interestingly, I found no reference from historical records about stuffing being served at the first Thanksgiving. I suspect the Pilgrims planned it, until the Wampanoag heard about the idea:

“So, once we get the birds ready, we’ll mix old bread crumbs and tasteless vegetables together, throw a bunch of spices on them, and stuff them up the fowl butt. Instant side dish!”

“Um … we’ll just take our smallpox blankets and go.”

Imagine how they reacted to fruitcake.
 
I would be personally grateful if you made my black Friday green.