"We hold these foods to be self evident..."
You can boycott grapes all you want. The true oppression is much subtler.

Exhibit A: The Casserole.

The very concept of the casserole is an attack on one's personal liberty. What is a casserole? But a dictatorship in food form. The ingredient's list should state:
"Contents: Don't you worry about it. We've decided what you're going to eat. Animal, Vegetable, Mineral - all mashed together in the exact proportions that WE want you to eat. Just sit back, stop thinking, and eat."

A casserole is the physical incarceration of the palette.

Average Joe American thinks, "Well, you see, I like to eat a bite of my potatoes first, then some peas, then wash it down with some milk before eating some of the Chicken..."
But the casserole says in its thick Eastern European accent,"NO! You may NOT! "
The communist notion of "It all mixes in your tummy anyway" is taken to its illogical extreme...outside of the body - into the very preparation of the meal.
This is WAY too much control for a food preparer.
"Okay," you say, "You're right. Damned right...But I don't hear you giving any solutions from your soapbox..." Read on, friend.

The answer has been with us for years.
But we've lost track of it in recent times. I'm talking of the TV Dinner. The original TV Dinner - foil wrapped and segregated to the teeth. Save for any unintentional sloshing that might occur during removal from the oven, each element of the meal is separate. Separate to the point that it is actually housed in different quarters - the cherry jubilee (molten inedible red goo that it was) knew its place and steered clear of the Salisbury steak district. (notice I don't say. Separate but equal" For how could steamed corn ever equal the exquisite spaghetti and veal-and why don't more restaurants serve Spaghetti and veal?)
Now, if you're some sort of communist, you can dump your meal in a bowl and mix the damn thing up. But for us Americans, we can eat the elements of our meal in the portions and order that we damn well see fit.

In these modern times you can microwave a frozen meal in 3 minutes. You can have your Wolfgang Puck sundried tomato, pesto, squash, noodle dish ready in the time it takes to unwrap the foil from the corn section of an aluminum TV Dinner. But is saving those minutes worth it? Sensory slavery seems a high price to pay for a speedy meal.

Prehensile Tales won't eat, but appreciates "great fuckin' ham".

Copyright © 1997 Prehensile Tales.

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