The Condiment Myth - Part 2

Quick on the heels of debunking the 'mustard as a condiment myth,' I am forced to show the fallacies which old school parents of European origins have been perpetuating inside the minds of their children regarding the pride of Leamington, Ontario. The myth of which I speak is the very belief that ketchup is not an autonomous meal, but rather an ingredient only to be used as a condiment on the likes of some sorta meat-filled sandwich, preferably pork, and probably on whole wheat bread to boot. Open your minds, children of the swine sandwich. The truth must be found and this myth unraveled.

The first step towards liberating your taste buds and garnering your parents' highly sought after approval of ketchup sandwiches is questioning the very reasons for which they disapprove. "Mama, vhy are ve eating zeese predominantly tomatoe sauce sandwiches called 'parmiagana' instead of zhe delicious 'cake' ketchup sandwiches? Zhey are both tomatoe-based. Mama, vhy no ketchup sandwiches?" Watch for the look of horror as mama searches for an adequate answer. When she begins to talk, it's best you don't get your hopes up on receiving a satisfactory answer. In fact it's best to anticipate a swift blow to either your left or right ear. If you're exceptionally unlucky, you won't have noticed the wooden spoon mama was wielding when you questioned her culinary authority.

Mama won't admit it, but she's glad you want a ketchup sandwich. She's only resistant because she believes you're abandoning your rich heritage of … you know … 'stuff,' but really, she knows this acceptance of 'cake' deliciousness is inevitable and even desirable.

Gaze upon edible world peace with your beautiful European eyes.

The similarities between ketchup and its 'non-cake' counterparts is unbelievable. If macaroni cheese loaf was an olive branch to European migrants, ketchup sandwiches are an olive orchard to the world!

Why those of Euro descent were considered in the creation of the ketchup sandwich …

In a little known part of the Euroland Union is a place often referred to as 'Italy.' In this dark and mysterious land, everything, including pork and pasta, is slathered in a tomato-based sauce called "tomato sauce." It may as well be macaroni and cheese loaf with ketchup, but instead of enjoying that potential concoction they separate everything and call it "spaghetti and meatballs with a side of garlic bread." They complicate the meal by not 'loafing' it and not serving it on Wonder white. In an attempt to bridge the divide, those from the lands of the papacy also eat pollo parmiagana sandwiches - chicken, cheese and the Euro ketchup substitute earlier referred to as 'tomato sauce.' The resistance comes, in all likelihood, when we asked our Euro-centric friends to lose the chicken and/or pork. Otherwise they're already eating ketchup sandwiches. Explain it as such to your parents from the motherland and you may find yourself eating like a 'cake' this holiday season. Consider it your contribution to Italo-'Cake' relations!

Nona thanks you!

Why those of Indian (and the surrounding area) descent were considered in the creation of the ketchup sandwich …

As was mentioned in a previous entry, Indians hold sacred their cows, opting for a simple vegetarian lifestyle/diet/whatever. Euro-Indian relations have historically been strained because Europeans love eating cheese and India's sacred cows. Enter the 'cake' and his or her ketchup sandwich. The ketchup sandwich appeases the Indian desire to be vegetarian or 'meat-free' as it's known outside the realm of India. It is also a meal which the sacred cows can enjoy. Imagine the joy of sharing one's lunch; a lunch probably slaved over for weeks to afford, with a docile, dim-witted, sacred animal devoid of rational thought. Yeah, I don't get it either, but someone might like it and the ketchup sandwich makes that day dream a possible reality. I don't judge, and neither should you. With it's vegetarian nature as well as affordability, the ketchup sandwich is an Indian's dream come true. Statistics show that since the inception of the ketchup sandwich, Indian migration patterns have shifted towards the land of 'cake,' versus the previously preferred destination of somewhere else in India.

Indian Nona thanks you!

My name is Coco and nonas of the world can now rejoice!

The Condiment Myth - Part 1

One of the first myths perpetuated by freshly arrived European migrants, to their offspring, is that mustard is simply a condiment, not something to be enjoyed as a stand alone meal. At first glance it is hard to understand why Euro parents would be so shrill, duping their ignorant and impressionable children. It came to me when I really wanted to use the word mustard in the title of this blog entry, but I wasn't sure if the old school Euro friends following the blog (the ones in need of these free educational webinars) would run from their computer, screaming in a panic something about 'ze Germans.' You see, this is an identifiable hang-up Euros have with mustard - it is synonymous with a traumatic Oktoberfest experience where they were no doubt gorging themselves upon pork sausages (see previous blog entry about Euros and their love of pork) and 'ze Germans' contaminated this free-for-all of sausages with mustard and sauerkraut. Subsequently, 'ze Germans' were called 'krauts' by their fellow European brethren, and in retaliation for this name calling we were all given WW1 and the dreaded mustard gas.*

I digress. Mustard in the land of 'cake,' unlike the rest of Europa, was not criminalized following the great war. In fact, mustard flourished in the land of 'cake,' becoming a splendid meal in its own right. It was celebratory in nature, but soon became a breakfast staple. No longer was mustard dependent upon other sandwich 'fillers,' no, mustard was in a league of its own and 'cake' loved it 'cause 'cake' love victory!

Pop quiz #1: what does the below picture depict?

If you said "German weapon of mass destruction from the early 20th century," you really need to get with the times. Furthermore, you need to subscribe to this blog and pay close attention. If you said "beginning of a prosciutto sandwich," you're wrong again and you seriously need to get your Euroland, pork-obsessed mind off the pig. The correct answer is that it is an open-faced mustard sandwich. The mustard sandwich is a renowned 'cake' breakfast made of but two simple ingredients: white bread and mustard. This is almost identical to the ketchup sandwich which is more of a 'cake' luncheon or dinner whereby the mustard is substituted with ketchup. Ketchup sandwiches will be covered in part 2 of the condiment myth.

Pop quiz #2: what does the below picture depict?

If you said "German weapon of mass destruction from the early 20th century," you're bordering on the designation of 'lost cause,' and may never fully integrate into 'cake' society. If you said "open-faced mustard sandwich" you're wrong again. Where has it ever been written that 'cake' eat anything other than white bread? The above is clearly the beginning of some Euro-inspired pork-type sandwich on whole wheat bread that will include some foreign looking yellow/grey stuff as a condiment. You should have noted by now that French's mustard, the only mustard worthy of 'cake,' is fluorescent yellow. All other mustards aren't really mustards at all, but rather concoctions created by foreigners to help their children fit in along side 'cake' children while they eat delicious mustard sandwiches. The only acceptable variation of the mustard sandwich is to toast the white bread before applying the mustard. This is known in 'cake' circles as the 'toasted mustard sandwich on white.'

My name is Coco and this has been part 1 of 2.

* When mustard gas was used by 'ze Germans' at the battle of Ypres, it is rumored that 'Cake' troops stationed at their position of the trench used white bread, previously slated for Fluffernutter sandwiches, as gas masks. When 'ze Germans' were sent back scared after intense fighting, 'Cake' troops pulled off their make shift masks and it was roughly time for brunch. So began the first ever open-faced mustard sandwiches.

Euro-inspired Cake

This next featured delicacy of the 'cake' culture is one that is not solely 'cake,' but one that was inspired by our Euro brothers and sisters, though they'd deny it vehemently. It was created with the intent to bridge our differences, to help alleviate the great divide between Euro folk and their current 'cake' hosts here in the land of 'cake.' Unfortunately, that has not happened. What has resulted is the further division of our cultures with the 'Euros' thrown back in absolute disgust at 'cake' ingenuity. Rather than see the olive branch of inclusion, parents from their respective motherlands looked down upon what they considered an abomination of edible goodness. They then passed their disdain for this specific 'cake' creation on to their children, poisoning the relationship of little 'cakes' and Euro kids in elementary school lunch rooms across the country. It was to be a divisive force, this food, rather than the great uniter it was intended to be. That 'cake' creation I refer to is none other than macaroni cheese loaf. Stay with me foreign friends, this is where we become 'one.'

I suppose the name "macaroni and cheese loaf" leaves much to be desired, but the tastes and textures within said loaf does not. If one looks at the majestic packaging of the loaf, it screams "Euro treat!" Let us break it down into categories of goodness in terms the children of Europe will understand.

1. Pork: Europeans love their schnitzels, especially those of the reputed pork variety. They eat it like candy, having it for dessert or sneaking it into European movie theaters so they don't have to pay inflated theatre prices for it. In the land of 'cake' the theaters don't sell schnitzels, so they sneak it in as a tribute to the home country. This is why those of European origins should love the loaf. The loaf that harbors the macaroni and cheese is primarily pork, yes, the very meat Euro dreams are made of.

2. Macaroni: This needs very little explanation because macaroni is a pasta and pasta is one of the national foods of Europe. It is as sacred in Euroland as cows are in India - except Europeans eat pasta and then eat India's cows. There is no limit to which Europe's offspring will go to in order to sink their teeth into pasta and other people's sacred animals.

3. Cheese: Europeans love cheese so much they named an entire region in homage of this delicious dairy byproduct. Perhaps you've heard of Swissland. The Euro union flag is blue, aptly chosen after their love of blue cheese, which isn't actually blue, but there is no colour called 'cheddar,' though if there was you can be sure the flag would have been that colour. If you look at any European deli / store, there is always cheese in the picture. Prove that statement wrong.

So a conundrum exists - why do those of Euro descent not love a food that includes all three of their favorite foods? Why not let their children experience all the foods Euros love in one single mouthful? Is it because the parents themselves weren't able to stuff their faces with all three simultaneously when they were young? Jealousy is the only reason Euro parents would have scared their kids from this 'cake' enigma known as macaroni cheese loaf. They say it will be disgusting as they spoon shovel haggis down their children's collective throats.

Suffer no more for your parent's jealousy! Enjoy the olive branch 'cake' have extended in the form of an all-inclusive sandwich meat in which Euro taste-buds can be treated to all their favorite delicacies in a singular, euphoric bite!

My name is Coco and 'cake' food is world peace waiting to happen!

Marshmallows, They're For Breakfast!

One thing I find that my friends of foreign ancestry have little knowledge about are the multitude of wonderful 'cake' delicacies. Sure, they like to introduce their own tastes from lands far away to 'cakers,' even trying foods of other foreign cultures firmly established here in the land of 'cake,' but what of 'cake' dishes? How is it those of European descent amorously enjoy an empanada or tiki masala while remaining blissfully ignorant to one of 'cakes' finest creations - "Fluff," the spreadable marshmallow? I try to hide my contempt for their parents who have obviously deprived my friends of 'cake' culture, choosing to keep them in a Euro-centric bubble that happens to willfully accept South American as well as Asian and Middle Eastern culture … but not 'cake' culture.

Regardless, it is my duty as both 'cake' and a friend to showcase Fluff in all it's gooey goodness. It is a wonder food, though so simple in concept. Perhaps there is a misconception in the perceived complexity of the Fluff that scares newly minted Canadians from Fluff. They fear the unknown, choosing to deprive their children rather than be caught flat-footed when one asks, "what is it Papa?" The simple answer is that "it is Fluff, the spreadable goodness." No child needs anything further as their concentration, once on their parent's answer, is now lost in the Fluff's deliciousness!

Now Fluff is not a single purpose 'cake' delicacy. It is wonderful on it's own AND as an integral ingredient in parts of other fine 'cake' foods. Aside from the obvious application of Fluff to delicious s'mores, Fluff is key to the a 'cake' staple - the Fluffernutter sandwich. So intrinsic is the Fluffernutter to being 'cake,' I have no choice but to demonstrate how you can make your own sandwich and indulge in the the once forbidden pleasure your anti-'cake' parents would not allow you to succumb to.

1. Take two pieces of white bread (I can't stress enough, the importance of the bread being white) out of the bag marked WONDER.
2. Coat one side of the first piece of bread with peanut butter, preferably Kraft.
3. Coat one side of the second piece of bread with Fluff.
4. Put the pieces of bread together with the plain sides facing outward. You want the peanut butter and Fluff to meld together. That's where the magic happens. You'll know.

I trust you will share this recipe with your non-cake friends, welcoming them on this, your journey of learning. Don't be afraid to experiment with other white breads. For a more familiar European flair, you can bastardize the above recipe and use D'Italiano thick cut white bread. Perhaps it will help you ease into 'cake' rather than just diving in. You're new to this. It's okay to be scared. Just know that 'cake' is for everyone, even you, despite what your parents told you as a child.

My name is Coco and I scream, you scream, we all scream for 'cake!'

Cake Manifesto

A spectre is haunting Europeans in Canada - the spectre of 'cake.' All the powers of old Europe, or those at least currently re-settled in Canada, have entered into an unholy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Pope and Russian president (no Tsar anymore), Metternich and Guizot (WTF is a Guizot?), French radicals (other than those in Quebec) and German police-spies (not sure about the police-spies, but Germans for sure).

Where is the hero in opposition that has not been decried as 'cake' by his opponents from Euroland? Where is the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of 'cake,' against the more culturally refined European arrivals as well as their other worldly, cultured immigrant friends?

Two things result from this fact:
1. 'Cake' is already acknowledged by all Europeans residing in Canada to be itself a power.
2. It is high time that 'Cake' should openly, in the face of all their newly arrived friends, publish their views, their delicacies, their tendencies and meet this nursery tale of 'cake' with a manifesto of the lifestyle itself.

To this end, 'cakers' of various provincial ties (with the possible exceptions of Quebec and Nunavut who are pretty resistant to cake culture) have assembled on the internet and sketched the following blog, to be published in English … and nothing else on account of the writer being unilingual and only able communicate in the English language - the official language of cake.

My name is Coco and I'm bringing 'cake' to the masses!