East Coast 1, West Coast 0
Why can't anybody on the West Coast slice Swiss cheese to the correct fucking thinness?
You wanna be able to read a newspaper through it, which in New York City, is a goddamned given, and you don't generally even have to specify. Even the newest, greenest member of a corner deli counter staff knows this. But out here, the default is to slice it thicker than a first-generation iPod, these fucking BRICKS of unbendable Swiss. And if you say "Slice it THIN! As thin as you can get it!", they'll nod like they totes get you (which nod also conveys the fact that they think you are a pain in the ass who's totes harshing their mellow), but they'll only manage to hew it down to Shuffle thickness. This is even the case at old Italian delis, like Molinari (aka the place I want to go when I die), although I must say, the Molinari boys are better than most.
My point is, how goddamned hard can it fucking be? Christ. Next stop: rocket science.
Note: Mr. Gleemonex and I have been burning through Deadwood as fast as the United States Postal Service can get the DVDs here, so my natural amount of cursing is increasing ... sorry to all you sensitive types out there.
You wanna be able to read a newspaper through it, which in New York City, is a goddamned given, and you don't generally even have to specify. Even the newest, greenest member of a corner deli counter staff knows this. But out here, the default is to slice it thicker than a first-generation iPod, these fucking BRICKS of unbendable Swiss. And if you say "Slice it THIN! As thin as you can get it!", they'll nod like they totes get you (which nod also conveys the fact that they think you are a pain in the ass who's totes harshing their mellow), but they'll only manage to hew it down to Shuffle thickness. This is even the case at old Italian delis, like Molinari (aka the place I want to go when I die), although I must say, the Molinari boys are better than most.
My point is, how goddamned hard can it fucking be? Christ. Next stop: rocket science.
Note: Mr. Gleemonex and I have been burning through Deadwood as fast as the United States Postal Service can get the DVDs here, so my natural amount of cursing is increasing ... sorry to all you sensitive types out there.
Labels: cooking, things that are bad for the world
4 Comments:
"Next stop: rocket science." This phrase rings a bell. Could it be a Twin Peaks reference?
Indeed it is! When Ben and Jerry Horne are at One-Eyed Jack's, and they each order a Beam & coke (or whatever), and the cocktail waitress says, "so ... that's ... two Beam & cokes?" And Ben goes, "Next stop: rocket science."
Sixteen years now, this sticks with me.
I'm just proud I recognized it!
i'm glad you caught on to deadwood. much much awesomeness.
Post a Comment
<< Home