Chew On This

The Gristle

I love the movie The Great Outdoors - have you seen it? It’s one of those movies that I remember watching over and over again with my brother when we were little and to this day we still recite random scenes from it and no one around us has any clue as to what the heck we are talking about. Our favorite scene is when John Candy attempts to devour the old 96er. Just when he thinks he's conquered the massive slab of beef, the chef looks on and tells him he's not done...there's still some gristle on his plate.

Sometimes I wonder if my grandmother was part Native American - much like they used every part of a buffalo...Betty Luft, too, could never be accused of being wasteful.

My grandmother was a great cook (or so I thought until I met other cooks.) She made the best thanksgiving meals. And what she did with the leftovers - it was like magic. She made a turkey noodle soup that would make your toes curl. There was one batch that I remember fondly - I was chowin' down, powering thru the bowl like a Hoover, a lil

sweat on my brow, nose beginning to run, and soup splatter on my chin...all of the sudden my hard work came to a screeching halt. My tongue detected something gelatinous yet rigid. I swirled it around in my mouth a bit while I tried to determine what to do with it. Tossed the bit to my back right molars - it resisted mastication and rebounded around my teeth like a bouncy ball. My brain went into warfare mode - I told myself it was a piece of celery that didn't get cooked all the way thru and I should just swallow it whole. And so I

did. After choking it down, I turned to my grandmother and said "Mommom is there any chance there is some gristle in the soup?" Mommom turned around from her station at the stove and as she used an acrylic nail on one hand to clean out the tasty morsels beneath an

acrylic nail on the opposite hand - and drop them into her mouth, she replied "Of course there's gristle in there! That's what gives it the flavor"

The Lard

I used to be the type of person that would steal one of your fries, a spoonful of

your ice cream, a sip of your drink... - when you weren't looking. However, I am now reformed bite stealer. One night after my dad made wagon wheel surprise for dinner, (Recipe for Wagon Wheel Surprise: ground beef, tomato sauce and wagon wheel pasta - not sure where the surprise was) he cleaned up the kitchen and then walked out. Seeing him leave, I stealthily snuck into the kitchen. I saw a small bowl if ice cream sitting on the counter. I figured he was in the bathroom so I had approx. 4 minutes to steal a bite. I hurriedly grabbed a spoon and carved myself a scoop. I wish I had been more cognizant of the fact that the ice cream didn't behave like ice cream normally does when you manipulate it in a bowl - ya know how the whole gooey mound shifts about a bit. I put the spoon up to my mouth and right as my lips were pulling the "ice cream" off the spoon...my dad entered the kitchen and said "Ew. Why are you eating the congealed grease from the ground beef?" My lips had a fatty sheen on them for the next hour while I scrubbed them raw.

The Hair

Remember when Cosi was XandO? No one ever knew if it was pronounced Zando or X and O. One day back in college, a couple friends, my roommate and I visited the XandO on the mainline. We got some snacks and the others got coffee. I don't drink coffee, so I went to the complimentary water cooler (like the ones that get dumped on coaches heads) that was by the register and tried to fill up a cup. It was empty. I got the attention of, Cindy, an adorable blonde barista with long curly blonde hair. Ahhh, Cindy - I’ll never forget you. I asked Cindy to fill up the water cooler and she graciously did. I then greedily filled up my cup and began to chug it right there. With each swallow I took I felt a tickle on my lip. It took about 7 swallows for me to become alarmed by this tickle...but as soon as I did, I put down my cup and in a pincher action grabbed at my lip. It was then that the horror set in; there was a hair between my index finger and my thumb. As I pulled the hair from my mouth I felt it creep up my esophagus. The hair was so long that at one point I was retrieving it with the hand over hand maneuver. When at last I had gotten it all out, what lay coiled in my hand was a beautiful long curly piece of blonde Cindy hair. I've never fully recovered. I still dream sometimes that I'm choking on hair and that no matter how much I pull out of my mouth there's a never ending pile in my stomach. Thanks Cindy! Xoxo