(Fishing Guide to the Stars, what did you expect?)


Food Notes:

Culinary Adventures

Wal-Mart hot dogs. Has to be a little scary, correct? I’m sure the hot dogs, the cheap brand, the 99 cent version with a no-name label, those are okay, correct? Hope so. No problems, so far.

So the hot dogs, and cheap, yellow mustard, those two items go together like, like, like (insert your favorite metaphor here). Cliché, even, doesn’t matter.

The problem starts, and stops, with the whole-wheat, seven-grain, all-organic bun. Hot dog bun. Whole grain. Sprouted wheat. Probably has little chunks of dirt in it, too. Still, less problematic than the mystery components of the hot dog. Like chorizo, the less I know the happier I am. Good thing I need reading glasses after a long day, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what’s in the cheap hot dog.

To insure a really good flavor, a hot dog – or chorizo – is made with parts swept up off the cutting room floor. Good stuff, let no animal product go to waste, and the greasier, the better.

Layer another element on top of this, do it in the microwave. Nuke that hot dog, ends split open, for about 45 seconds. Heat that bun for 15 or 20, and there it is: a repast fit for a king. Prince. Pauper, in my case, but who cares?

I just wonder if there’s disconnect in the time-space continuum, consensual reality, a break, a loss of continuity when the Wal-Mart hot dog is served on that 7-grain, whole wheat bun.