The last taboo?
No, this is not about incest or bestiality; if it were, it would be on that semi-lewd Austin 3:16 Board. (Do other schools have as much reason as we do to attribute these specific verboten practices to deserving rivals?)
This is a food taboo--like Jews and Muslims don’t eat pork and Hindus don’t eat beef. (Oddly enough, for exactly opposite reasons. We are more kin to the Hindus in this respect. We kinda worship a certain breed of cow, OTOH we certainly have no compunction about eatin’ ‘em.) The Hindus, if they did eat beef, probably would have discovered chili before those retired professional ladies in San Antonio; but I digress, as usual.
It is well established that it is sacrilegious to add beans to chili. This is a thought more vile than intimate relations with close relations; not sure they do this even in Mobilhoma. They might add beans, but who cares? They are surely doomed, going back generations to the time of the first Sooners.
Mayonnaise in guacamole. Not entirely sure this reaches to the level of a taboo. I think there must be an element of temptation for a sacred prohibition to arise. The only thing that comes up when we think of mayo in guac is nausea. There is no secret desire, just revulsion. Definitely Communist.
Mayonnaise on hamburgers. Definitely a taboo, but one which has steadily unraveled; perhaps from the very beginnings. My own lapse on this came early, suddenly, and full bore. Two Bonanza Burgers for lunch at the Holiday House on the Drag- Spring of ‘66. “If a Bonanza Burger is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.” Arguably worth going to Hell for, but it’s too late to worry about that now. I still prefer burgers with mustard only; perhaps I'll only get time in Purgatory.
The reason there is a question mark in the title is that I am not completely certain that this taboo is any more than my own personal antipathy. Maple syrup. Specifically maple syrup on pancakes, but I don’t like it anywhere. The stuff is revolting. Sickly sweet, insipid, and watery, lacking color, and having a taste so odd it is virtually useless as an ingredient in any other food. I am not a big donut eater (having once worked a couple weeks in a New Orleans donut shop), but I have taken only one bite from a maple bar; fairly positive I spit it out. It is, after all, boiled tree sap; so what can you expect. Indirectly associated with hockey (Toronto?). Quintessentially Yankee.
There is an infinitely superior alternative dressing for pancakes. I always carry some in a small jug in my Dopp kit when traveling.
Molasses. Now that is a real syrup. Not Karo or other corn syrup or even cane syrup, but the genuine article-- slightly sulfuric molasses. Unfortunately one leg of the triangular slave trade, but otherwise a highly beneficial and salutary concoction. It has body, intensity, and flavor to spare. It is strong and barely sweet at all. Nothing approaches it when poured, ever so slowly, onto buttered pancakes. So thick it is hard to sop it all up from the plate. I think I was 11 or 12, and a Boy Scout, before I ever saw anyone put anything else on a pancake.
Few food items have as many varied and wonderful uses. I understand it is common in many cookie and other dessert recipes.
Molasses is a key ingredient in lots of damn good BBQ table sauces. Combined with dry mustard, some peppers, and a little cider vinegar, it gives a good sauce the “whang” characteristic of good Southern eating.
Molasses is the precursor to rum, a versatile and variable liquor. To it we owe the Daiquiri, the Cuba Libre and scores of other fine drinks-many with umbrellas. Hot buttered rum provided solace during the winters to our ancestors. Some of the aged dark rums are as well thought of as fine whiskies; probably much better than Scotch.
My Grandpa, always Charlie to us, liked his molasses stirred up with softened butter. Into this he would dunk a hot biscuit. When he had this his face would light up like he was in Heaven.
No, this is not about incest or bestiality; if it were, it would be on that semi-lewd Austin 3:16 Board. (Do other schools have as much reason as we do to attribute these specific verboten practices to deserving rivals?)
This is a food taboo--like Jews and Muslims don’t eat pork and Hindus don’t eat beef. (Oddly enough, for exactly opposite reasons. We are more kin to the Hindus in this respect. We kinda worship a certain breed of cow, OTOH we certainly have no compunction about eatin’ ‘em.) The Hindus, if they did eat beef, probably would have discovered chili before those retired professional ladies in San Antonio; but I digress, as usual.
It is well established that it is sacrilegious to add beans to chili. This is a thought more vile than intimate relations with close relations; not sure they do this even in Mobilhoma. They might add beans, but who cares? They are surely doomed, going back generations to the time of the first Sooners.
Mayonnaise in guacamole. Not entirely sure this reaches to the level of a taboo. I think there must be an element of temptation for a sacred prohibition to arise. The only thing that comes up when we think of mayo in guac is nausea. There is no secret desire, just revulsion. Definitely Communist.
Mayonnaise on hamburgers. Definitely a taboo, but one which has steadily unraveled; perhaps from the very beginnings. My own lapse on this came early, suddenly, and full bore. Two Bonanza Burgers for lunch at the Holiday House on the Drag- Spring of ‘66. “If a Bonanza Burger is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.” Arguably worth going to Hell for, but it’s too late to worry about that now. I still prefer burgers with mustard only; perhaps I'll only get time in Purgatory.
The reason there is a question mark in the title is that I am not completely certain that this taboo is any more than my own personal antipathy. Maple syrup. Specifically maple syrup on pancakes, but I don’t like it anywhere. The stuff is revolting. Sickly sweet, insipid, and watery, lacking color, and having a taste so odd it is virtually useless as an ingredient in any other food. I am not a big donut eater (having once worked a couple weeks in a New Orleans donut shop), but I have taken only one bite from a maple bar; fairly positive I spit it out. It is, after all, boiled tree sap; so what can you expect. Indirectly associated with hockey (Toronto?). Quintessentially Yankee.
There is an infinitely superior alternative dressing for pancakes. I always carry some in a small jug in my Dopp kit when traveling.
Molasses. Now that is a real syrup. Not Karo or other corn syrup or even cane syrup, but the genuine article-- slightly sulfuric molasses. Unfortunately one leg of the triangular slave trade, but otherwise a highly beneficial and salutary concoction. It has body, intensity, and flavor to spare. It is strong and barely sweet at all. Nothing approaches it when poured, ever so slowly, onto buttered pancakes. So thick it is hard to sop it all up from the plate. I think I was 11 or 12, and a Boy Scout, before I ever saw anyone put anything else on a pancake.
Few food items have as many varied and wonderful uses. I understand it is common in many cookie and other dessert recipes.
Molasses is a key ingredient in lots of damn good BBQ table sauces. Combined with dry mustard, some peppers, and a little cider vinegar, it gives a good sauce the “whang” characteristic of good Southern eating.
Molasses is the precursor to rum, a versatile and variable liquor. To it we owe the Daiquiri, the Cuba Libre and scores of other fine drinks-many with umbrellas. Hot buttered rum provided solace during the winters to our ancestors. Some of the aged dark rums are as well thought of as fine whiskies; probably much better than Scotch.
My Grandpa, always Charlie to us, liked his molasses stirred up with softened butter. Into this he would dunk a hot biscuit. When he had this his face would light up like he was in Heaven.
