While wandering down an Intarwebz alley, I saw this and nearly choked on my gin:
I’m sorry, and you can call me a reactionary old fart (it has been said before), but red wine with fish and chips? Out of a bottle with an actual label?
What the hell: why not try that same booze with corndogs or BBQ? Next thing, it’ll be Diet Coke with caviar, or Scotch with tacos. Yerrrrgh.
BEER, DAMN IT.
‘Nuff said.
According to the Daily Mail, what you drink shows your character type, e.g.:
I am therefore, according to the above, a confident, psychotic adventurer (yeah, like I have only one favorite drink… pshaw).
Which reminds me: I haven’t had a Pisco Sour in yonks. Excuse me for a few minutes…
In this Amazon advertisement cunningly disguised as a newspaper “article” ., the Nespresso Vertuo Next is described as the “best capsule coffee on the market”, a statement with which I take issue.
I’m not interested in starting a Keurig vs. Nespresso war (I use a Keurig), but the plain fact of the matter is that I find all the Nespresso offers so strong as to be undrinkable. Indeed, when I was confined to quarters in Free Market Towers lo those many years ago, I was forced to use one of those Nespresso things, and discovered that the only way I could stomach the stuff was to make it “Americano-style”: half coffee, half hot water.
As a company, Nespresso irritates me because like Starbucks, they’ve built a marketing ethos around the alleged high quality of their product which appeals very much to the wannabe social climbers of this world. I was even more irritated when I wanted to buy Mrs. FM a Christmas present of a large selection of Nespresso pods, only to discover that I couldn’t because I wasn’t a “registered user” (i.e. an owner of the machine). So I got her something else.
I also prefer Keurig because rather than using expensive pods, I can use one of the little “buckets” as a substitute, and fill said bucket with my own choice of coffee (Dunkin’ Donuts, or a 50-50 mix of Peet’s Light Roast and Tim Horton’s when I need to wake up quickly).
So no; Nespresso isn’t the “best capsule coffee on the market”, either by quality or by offering.
Your mileage may differ.
It used to be called “Bulldog Spirit” — i.e. digging in your heels and refusing to take crap from anyone.
And this fine restauranteuse is a wonderful example of the above:
An award-winning restaurant has hit out at ‘holier-than-thou’ vegan customers after it received backlash over its new menu, which does not include any main courses suitable for them.
The Kitchen at London House on the Isle of Wight took to social media to defend itself against ‘nasty’ and ‘bullying’ vegans who were outraged at their decision to refuse to cater to their diets. The popular high street restaurant in Ventnor said that while it used to serve some vegan food they decided to stop due to a ‘militant minority’.
‘We have in the past catered for vegans. Everything from Vegan cream teas, even had special Vegan bacon made so they could enjoy BLT’s amongst other things.
‘We stopped. Why? Because we got fed up with the arrogant, ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude.
‘Please, vegans, it is not a given that we should adapt our menu to suit your preference.
‘If you want vegan food, go to a vegan restaurant – which incidentally if I went to one and asked for a steak I wouldn’t get one, nor would I expect to.
‘You have chosen your lifestyle, it’s not a medical condition that you’ve been forced to endure through no fault of your own.
‘Your choice does not fit with our style of cooking. We respect your choice, and expect that you respect ours.
I would have just told the all veganists to fuck off, but this lady is cut from a different cloth than I am.
Forcing the world to change just to suit your personal preferences is the worst kind of solipsism and narcissism, and good for Our Heroine for standing up to them.
I’m the grocery shopper in our household, not just because New Wife still hasn’t got used to the different brands and such in the U.S., but because as I’ve said before, there’s not much goes on in a Kroger or whatever that I don’t know about.
So you certainly don’t have to tell ME that grocery prices are going through the roof thanks to Bidenflation.
My average spend, or “ring” per visit has typically been around $40 – $70 each week (the upper end if I’m buying a little meat or deli), and it’s been in that ballpark for about the past five years. The only time it would be higher than that was if we were buying for company, i.e. when family or friends were coming round for dinner.
Now?
Since the beginning of the year, I can count on one hand the number of times that my ring has been less than $100 — and that’s after cutting back severely on quantities, buying smaller packs and / or cheaper, buying certain items (e.g. deli or frozen foods) less frequently, using all the tricks of the trade I know from my four decades in the supermarket business to make my grocery dollar stretch further. I probably buy, in item count, about 25% less than I used to buy; and still the average basket ring is over $100.
Now too, I drive about twice a week less frequently than I used to — combining trips to the bank, say, with trips to the supermarket or farmers’ market, trying to stretch the fuel as much as I can, and over a month, I’m probably in the car about a dozen times less than my old average.
Here’s the thing, though: gas prices go up and down, and we’re all used to seeing that. When it comes to grocery prices, however, they never come down. It’s just a fact of life.
Thank you Biden, you motherfucker, you and all your foul little government apparatchiks who have pooled their efforts to make America unaffordable in the Great Reset.
From City Journal:
Restaurants supply physical nourishment, but their ultimate contribution to life is spiritual. From the bonds forged with dining partners to the camaraderie shared with fellow patrons to the banter exchanged with staff, dining out is a social, aesthetic experience. But QR codes are ruining it. More than a superficial nuisance, they are a sign of cultural decline.
Whenever I go to a restaurant and am confronted with this nonsense, I ignore it and demand to get a paper menu. Usually, I get strange looks from the staff and eventually get a plain photocopied list, with no pictures of the dishes.
Suits me fine; I know what a burger looks like, ditto schnitzel, ditto spaghetti bolognaise, ditto pretty much everything I care to eat.
Although it hasn’t happened yet, if I’m ever told that I can only order a meal through my phone, I’ll get up and walk out. I hate using my fucking phone at the best of times, and to sit there squinting at a list of dishes in tiny type with microscopic pictures is guaranteed to put me in a terrible mood — not the ideal customer a restaurant wants, because then I’m going to find fault with almost everything that happens thereafter.
I’ve already griped about concrete walls/floors and loud music, so I’m not going to repeat it all here.
I know all about the cost of labor and the difficulty in finding decent waiters and waitresses nowadays, and I don’t care. I want the personal touch when I go out to eat, and you can forget that drive-through shit, too — hell, if I ever go to a fast-food restaurant (a highly infrequent event), I park the car and walk inside to place my order.
I was never a fan of “casual dining” to begin with, other than as a family/friends event, or being out of town where I have no option. But as this move towards impersonal- and remote service seems to be growing, the less likely I’m going to be found eating out.
A pox on all of them, and on this so-called modern life.