Last night my dinner consisted of half a box of Wheat Thins, a bowl of popcorn with extra butter (thanks, honey!) and a Rice Crispy treat. I washed it down with a cold Heineken.
The wife and I have discussed this extensively and we’re in complete agreement. There really is no ice cream superior to Breyers Rocky Road. It’s pretty much the pinnacle in ice cream achievement. The chocolate-covered almonds are sprinkled throughout in perfect proportion and the chocolate ice cream with marshmallow “ribbons” can’t be beat. You could spend your ice cream dollar elsewhere, but why would you?
Although you might not want to take our word for it considering the wife had sliced apples and Doritos for dinner the other night and I didn’t try to stop her.
The funniest thing about their extensive menu other than its sheer exhaustiveness has to be this poem regarding their policy of no more than 4 people per party:
PARTY OF FIVE by Robert Hershon
you could put a chair at the end
or push the tables together
but dont bother
This banged-up little restaurant
where you would expect no rules at all
has a firm policy against seating
parties of five
And you know you are
a party of five
It doesnâ€™t matter if one of you
offers to leave or if
you say you could split into
a party of three and a party of two
or if the five of you come back tomorrow
in Richard Nixon masks and try to pretend
that you donâ€™t know each other
It wonâ€™t work: Youâ€™re a party of five
even if youâ€™re a beloved regular
Even if the place is empty
Even if you bring logic to bear
Even if youâ€™re a tackle for the Chicago Bears
it wonâ€™t work
Youâ€™re a party of five
You will always be a party of five
A hundred blocks from here
a hundred years from now
you will still be a party of five
and you will never savor the soup
or compare the coffee or
hear the wisdom of the cook
and the wit of the waitress or
get to hum the old -time tunes
among which you will find
The wife and I went down to Florida recently for 4th of July festivities at my parent’s house. While we were there, we took in a day of outlet store shopping and found some good deals. For lunch, we stopped at a chain sandwich shop in one of those outdoor malls that you see popping up everywhere these days. We were finishing up our meal when I grabbed my wife’s tray to go empty it in the trash. She snatched her unopened bag of potato chips off the tray and said, “don’t throw this away, it’s a perfectly good bag of chips.” I remember thinking that there’s no way either of us will eat those chips.
I just opened up the lunch that my wife made for me last night. It consists of: a turkey sandwich, strawberry yogurt, m&m’s and that bag of chips from Florida.
Nice work, honey. Waste not want not.
The wife and I have been really into banana splits as of late. First, get your mind out of the gutter. This is no code word for some freakiness, I’m really talking about banana splits. You know, Chocolate, Vanilla and Strawberry ice cream with hot fudge sauce, peanuts and (duh!) bananas.
So. Damn. Good. If you haven’t had one in a while, get ye to a super market and stock up on these staples of dessert goodness.
So, to sum up this post: banana splits are good. God, that’s pathetic. Hey, at least I’m finally writing something on themuy. Baby steps.
Did you know that at any Dunkin Donut’s ToGo® sandwich shop, you can eXtreme© your California Club with a scoop of avocado? Well, it’s true. You can. It doesn’t get more eXtreme© than that, I’ll tell ya.