Welcome back to the weekly roundup here at Eating Our Words, where our skin is getting tan and leathery, our forearms like bronze hamhocks, our necks like freshly-stained rawhide, our nipples like crisp yet moist buttons of salami. Yes, it's summertime here in Houston, and-
Wait, what? It's only April? Oh Jesus. Oh dear sweet Jesus. We are so screwed.
I wish for the day when hot dogs are plentiful enough to be used as currency. When that happens, 20 Oscar Mayer hot dogs will be worth a nickel, and this monster from Revival Market should be worth about a c-note. It's pricier because of premium ingredients, so that's forgivable, unlike the hot dogs (and other foods) at Minute Maid Park, which are outrageously expensive because... well, because fuck you, I guess. I mean, that's pretty much the only message we can take from that kind of markup.
Speaking of implied messages: if you're a parent or a teacher looking to organize a group dinner for prom night, please remember that your teenagers are a bunch of drooling idiots who will be confused by any food not served deep-fried on a red-and-white checkerboard placemat. Or at least, that's the message you send us every time you ignore our advice. You know you're going to send those poor kids to The Cheesecake Factory anyway, why even ask us? Just explain to them, "Mommy is confused and frightened by new things, so she assumes you will be, too."
Of course, some things in this world are genuinely confusing, such as "Wasn't Dunkin Donuts supposed to invade Houston at some point?" Or "Why doesn't the food at Cyclone Anaya's taste like food?" That's hyperbole, kids! It tastes like food. Bland food.
Our roundup of the stupidest places the Lord has chosen to show Himself may have struck some overly sensitive folk as sacrilegious, but at least we're not the ones planning on eating out on Easter Sunday, so there. Wait, you're not supposed to do that, right? Is Easter like a super-Sabbath or something? We're not clear. We are clear however, that it's as good a time as ever to chow down on what the Spaniards call conejo. I had some once, and it was delicious. Adorably delicious.
Between the rabbit-cooking article and this hilarious anecdote regarding her guzzling Boone's Farm in a BYOB place, I think I might be starting to develop a crush on our Katharine. Shhh, nobody tell her. Or her boyfriend.
On a sad note, we bid goodbye to Nick Hall's excellent Shiftwork Bites column, and eagerly await whatever he'll be coming up with next. Kind of like Daniel Day Lewis. Man, that guy is great in everything! Right up until that dumbass musical.
Have a great Easter weekend! Eat lots of Peeps!
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