Burns My Bacon: Corn Flakes Crumbs


Since food has been “trendy” for the past few years, I feel like there’s now a product there that does everything. I don’t really subscribe to the gadget theory but I understand that some people see the appeal of a microwave egg poacher or an avocado slicer. But you know what isn’t okay? Products that aren’t actually different products.

The other day I was browsing every aisle of the grocery store, because it had started torrentially downpouring outside while I was inside (sans umbrella), and I came across these. Cornflake crumbs. Mmmm hmm. Just in case you are too lazy to take a bag of corn flakes and a) sit on it b) give it to your kids to smash with a baseball bat, or c) roll a bag of corn flakes with a rolling pin, you can buy this product for $3.79.  I thought maybe I was missing something, so I went to the Kellogg’s website to search for a product description. Here it is: “Corn cereal crumbs.” It is LITERALLY, literally, another product that already exists, just crushed up.

I don’t know what I’m more angry about. The fact that manufacturers are making this product, or that there are people supporting the cause.

What. The. Fuck.

Burns My Bacon: Eat it, Bitch!


As you may have ascertained from the title of this piece (or perhaps you’ve read some of my previous blogs), I’m not too concerned with being ‘politically correct.’ In my small circle of animal loving, hybrid driving, “We Are the World” group of friends, I’m considered somewhat of a jerk.

I’m regularly referred to as a ‘Neanderthal’, ‘clueless’ and ‘barbaric’ whenever I’m asked to give my opinion regarding the latest food trends. Lately I’ve been defending my “hands off” attitude toward obtaining certain background information about my meals. Why should I apologize for caring more about how my veal was prepared than how it was raised? After all, it’s one of the perks about being at the top of the food chain. I don’t care how you slaughtered my lunch just don’t over cook it!

I don’t mean to sound cruel but I’m a carnivore without a conscience. If my chicken dinner is going to cost an additional ten bucks because it’s “free range” then just give me the common bird that was raised in a pen resembling a Tokyo subway car during rush hour. Believe me, once it’s battered and fried I could care less about its childhood.

And regardless of what my friends may say, my dinner isn’t more enjoyable when I know that the tuna is ‘dolphin safe,’ or what local farm my steak came from. Taste is my top-deciding factor when I’m planning my next meal option. Cost comes in a close second.

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Burns My Bacon: There’s Only ONE Way to SAY Reese’s


Rees-IS vs. Rees-EES

One of these things is not like the others. One of these things just doesn’t belong. Which is it? I have had many a conversation/debate regarding the proper pronunciation of the peanut-butter-touted brand Reese’s.I’ve provided my phonetic pronunciations above, so from now on I will refer to “Rees-IS” as the correct/right way and “Rees-EES” as the incorrect/wrong way. I’m sure many of you are offended already. That just means you are wrong.

This is not like those debates of the pronunciation of “Mature” (ma-chur vs. ma-tour) or the word “Tear” (tare vs. teer). We can discuss the different pronunciations and meanings of these words, but there are a couple of differences between these words and our delicious peanut butter friend Reese’s. First, there is only one meaning to the word Reese’s—peanut butter and chocolate. Second, the words “mature” and “tear” have little to nothing to do with food compared with the word Reese’s. We are, after all, committed to food, right?

So here’s the evidence.

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Burns My Bacon: Running Out of Sour Cream (FOR YOUR BURRITO)

sour cream

What’s hip these days? Eating (and saying) “fro yo,” craft beer, and “fresh” fast food. I’m already sold on craft beer, will never say “fro yo”, and occasionally I will buy into getting some fast food that is “fresh.” So, this past weekend the girlfriend and I stopped at Chipotle on the way home from the shore rather than a burger place.

Got myself a pork burrito loaded with the pleasantries and of course—wanted sour cream on my pork-stuffed tortilla pocket. But guess what? The burrito artisan behind the counter said “we’re all out.” We’re all out—of sour cream—at Chipotle— for my made to order burrito. I’m sorry, usually there is some sort of tub of sour cream in the fridge ready to go for every other damn customer that asks for sour cream on their burrito.

Fine, I figured I could wait the extra two seconds (you know, because it’s FAST fresh food) for them to get the new tub of sour cream. So I told her I’ll wait. Her response: “Oh, sorry sir, we need to make some more.” Oh, that makes sense. I figured you had a couple of cows in the back of the store ripe for milking, and some other cream curdling away, ready to officially become sour cream. Because, that’s not only fresh, but also so quick – to MAKE sour cream. Are you kidding me?

Of all things…sour cream. Now I’m wondering why they keep the tomatoes, lettuce, onions, and other veggies aside in the fridge rather than in their private garden in the back by the cows.  Shouldn’t those be just as “fresh” as the sour cream? Where are the pigs, cows and chickens they slaughter? Where is the butcher? And what about the tortillas? I see them pulled out of packages – some dude can easily make the tortillas on the spot!

Well, at least the sour cream is fresh.

Burns my Bacon: Unscratchable Itch


I love my food processor.  In my opinion, it is one of thing things Every Kitchen Needs. My food processor is of the 9-cup Kitchenaid variety, and I use it at least twice a week, for everything from peanut sauce to pizza dough.  My life as a coleslaw maker was changed the day I first used the food processor to shred cabbage.  The fact that I could come up with three food processor-related previous posts off the top of my head should tell you something about my love for this ten-ton appliance.

Why, then, if everything else about it is so great, did they make it so freaking hard to clean?  Ugh.  It’s seriously enough to make a girl consider mixing her pizza dough by hand.

Just kidding.

But barely.

Burns My Bacon: Chipolte vs Chipotle

Okay… as a society, we should be past this faux pas by now. (Note: this is a sign in one of the best seafood restaurants/markets in central Texas.)


There’s a national chain called Chipotle.

Chipotle flavored and infused condiments and sauces can be found on all sorts of menus.

For the love of all things delicious, Jack in the Box even made a commercial focused on this very topic years ago!

It’s not some exotic, indecipherable foreign word at this point.

And yet… and YET…

CHIPOLTE! It’s everywhere! Why can’t people spell or say the name of this smoky, sweet pepper? It’s borderline insulting at this point. If I want to get really depressed, I just check out the hashtag #chipolte on Twitter because there’s always tons of results. What gives? How can we educate everyone without sounding snobby? Is there even such a thing as a chipotle snob? Should I just give up on life and stop caring about things like this? So many questions, yet no answers.

Chipolte. Sigh.

Burns My Bacon: Whipped Cream at Mickey D's


Public Service Announcement: The Shamrock Shake is back!

While other stores stock up on Easter Candy and the new summer line, McDonald”s is proactively celebrating a true holiday: St. Patty”s Day. Other than Irish Car Bombs, there is nothing better than a Shamrock Shake on a not-so-near-Spring day. Just one thing:make sure you tell them you don”t want whipped cream on it. Or the damn cherry…

Sure, I like whipped cream, but not when it replaces one fourth of the shake! Oh yeah, and they put a cherry on top. If I wanted a sundae, I”d order a sundae (somewhere else). But guess what? I want a mint shake with green food coloring in it, Det er SkillOnNet som leverer spillene til EU casino online , en aktor som er anerkjent for nedlastbare casino online er. and I want it filled to the top, damnit. Only for less than one month a year do I get to drink green, minty, creamy, fatty goodness. I don”t want whipped cream to clog up my red and yellow striped straw—that narrow tunnel is reserved only for my shake.

I know, I know, this is not something new. I got screwed over last year. So this year, I got smart and told them, “no whip, asshole.” What did I get? Three-fourths of a cup of a Shamrock Shake (that will teach you for trying to be fancy with your clear plastic cup, “McCafe.”)  I went via the drive-through and didn”t notice the damage done until it was too late. Don”t let this happen to you. Check it before you take your first big SUCK through the straw. We deserve better. My Irish car bomb better be f”ing awesome this year…

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