TheSnackHound

Yesterday, I was enticed by a sandwich board to try some sort of Peppermint Mocha contraption over at Beyond Juice.  The drink was test marketed especially for me, I think, by the National Association of Coffee Baristas.  They know that I don’t drink coffee.  At all.  Somehow, however, because this drink featured “the basic meal in a cup formula” and peppermint flavoring and a hint of choco related flavor, the guise was to trick me into believing that this particular libation really didn’t have coffee in it.  It wasn’t really the Colombian Connection coffee drink from their menu with peppermint thrown in.

I naively pondered the idea that it would be too late in the day for caffeine.  To some folks, the cut off is 7 or 8 p.m., but because my unscathed bodily system does not often consume caffeine, I had to remind myself that it would probably have an effect closer to crack.  Of course, I didn’t remind myself, but ordered one of the said drinks at 4 p.m., following advice of regular mortals who had a mainline drip set up to coffee.

Needless to say, I had a very productive 3 hours.  Later on, laying in my bed, I experienced that dazed state of being periodically aware of, “Oh, I’m not sleeping yet.  When am I going to fall asleep.”  I groggily looked at the alarm clock, and though my brain was awake, my body was feeble, and I went back to sleep for another hour.   Today I still feel sort of buzzed but ready to crash any moment for a nap.

Was it worth it?  Well, I did get several servings of fruits and veggies betwixt and between the peppermint and coffee, which I thought would counteract the effects, but lo and behold it didn’t.   All in all, I might just do it again, but ask for them to zap the caffeine out of it.  And they can’t.  So they would just pretend.  Then I’d just pretend.  And then I’d be up all night. Again.

Did you do something not so bright lately caffeine wise?

This is a Sponsored Post written by me on behalf of Jones Soda. All opinions are 100% mine.

Its midnight and you are scrounging around for that last minute item to make to take to your Thanksgiving fete.   You don’t want to cheap out and just buy your host and hostess a pie like everybody else. No way. Nobody remembers a pie unless it was the best one they have had in their life (granted, they probably don’t remember much before the age of four, so MOST of their life) or the worst one. I won’t go into the Great Rhubarb Pie Fiasco of 1998. Lets not even go there, but I will say I never had a rhubarb before that moment and will summarize by saying what I was putting in my mouth was the absolute opposite taste of what I thought it would be.  I digress.  It was right up there with Grandpa’s birthday party of 1994. That year, Grandpa blew out the candles and made a wish and at that very moment, Aunt Rita fell off the edge of the sofa arm she was sitting on and broke her hip. Of course, for a split second there everyone looked at Grandpa instead of Aunt Rita.

Are you looking for something that you too will be known as having brought on the food incident of 2009, always to be remembered? It is not to late to run to Meijers right this second or Kroger’s in the morning  (don’t forget they have it at Spartan too) to pick up some Tofurky and Gravy Jones Soda .  If you prefer, you can order it from Jones as well.

An independent taste test was conducted this past week. The particpants were myself, My Favorite Guy, my Favorite guy’s whole immediate family, my father, my brother and some friends. We wanted to conduct the study in perfect fairness to create some sort of balance between adventurous eaters who put Andrew Zimmern to shame, picky eaters like me that only ordered toast at restaurants until she was five and everyone else in between. There were those that leaned towards the almost vegetarian side and participants who have hunted the real deal on occasion.

The appearance of Tofurky and Gravy soda looks like, well….brown turkey gravy.  This caused some trepidation until the familiar air shifting sound of the bottle opening. We could be sure it was really carbonated.

My Favorite Guy summed it up as, “Interesting.”  He didn’t say he hated it, but didn’t say he liked it, either, which was a fair assessment. John, who is considered the gourmet of the bunch, noted that it had a slight aspartame-like bouquet, or perhaps some other artificial sweetener that lingered. One of the kids thought that it tasted like butterscotch.  One of out friend’s faces lighted up when he heard it was a Jones Product.  They love Jones Soda, and somehow it made the concept more huggable and lovable.

My brother, who was once a professional cook had the following picture to paint: “Picture this: You have a hot turkey sandwich and you let it sit for an hour while you are talking with family, and then you get up and take a taste and say. ‘Huh…cold gravy’  Then you wash it down with seltzer water. That’s exactly how it tastes.”

The overall consensus is that it tasted how it was set out to taste, but would they buy it?  Yes.  It would be the perfect novelty gift to take to someone’s house. In fact, we will all remember our experience for many years to come.  It will be, “Remember 2009 when we had that soda?”  It definitely is something to pass around while watching the football game.   But would they buy some to slug back a few?  Nope.   No one was ready to stock the fridge, but we will probably buy it to stock in friend’s fridges.   Luckily, in the store, you can buy it in a multipack with some mouthwatering flavors.

I am very curious to see what Jones has up its sleeve for next year. Let me think. Green Bean Casserole? Yukon Gold? Candied Yam? Buttered Roll? I know, I shouldn’t be giving anyone any ideas, but you know I would probably try it just to have another great time polling everyone.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours from my family!

I am not a morning person, especially if I have to get up at a time my brother so delicately calls “the butt crack of dawn.” Luckily, that I can rest easy and wake up after the sun is shining. A few mornings this week, however, I have had some early appointments. I’ll rise but I won’t shine. That’s what I say.

These mugs are enough to wake anyone up in the morning. Their bright mod-ness dares anyone to pour their orange juice or coffee in the cup, not on the counter. They are a true remedy for zombiedom. Maybe they are the long awaited cure for seasonal affective disorder. Two actually match as a pair. Ah, young cups in love. The other two don’t, but they sort of coordinate in a bizarre way, picking up a little yellow or green from the figure 8 handled china mugs.

Add a little mod into your morning, and snap these up on Etsy while they last. For only $10 plus shipping, you can have all four. Look at them again…are you awake yet?

These monolithic bamboo cups are currently for sale on Etsy.   They come to you live from about 45 or more years ago.

My question of the day is:  What makes you a cup?  Well, I would normally call these glasses, because of the taller, more serious shape, but they are not made out of glass.   So, they are cups, right?  Well, I picture a cup as sort of shorter and squattier.    I don’t imagine a tall porcelain pilsner, if there is such a thing, would be called a “cup.”

According to Websters:

cup

–noun

1.a small, open container made of china, glass, metal, etc., usually having a handle and used chiefly as a receptable** from which to drink tea, soup, etc.

Technically, a GLASS can be a cup, but can a cup be a glass?

Let’s see.  Under the definition for GLASS, we find:

4.a tumbler or other comparatively tall, handleless drinking container.

In otherwords, if I called these glasses, even though they are not glass, I would be completely correct as well.

Don’t worry about anyone chopping down bamboo and taking it away from pandas. As I have stated before, these are vintage. The tree might have croaked 50 years ago. Also, do you know how fast bamboo shoots up? It is invasive and you can never get rid of it if you tried.

There are six of these babies…plus a bonus cup (or glass or drinking receptacle) just in case you have a freeloader crash your dinner party. They are priced at $16.00 for the entire set!

Find them right here.  Now that you found them, you just MIGHT want to buy them. They are really that cool.

** Yes, I copied this from Dictionary.com, and that is a typo.  IN the dictionary! 

*****
Do you like the atmosphere around here?
Okay, this was more pathetic than funny, but still it would be nice if you would rate me on Humor Blogs!
(You will have my undying appreciation!)

I would have a little problem if I decided to be a barfly. At 5′, you can’t really gracefully plop your rump on a bar stool. You do have several options. You can do the Mt. Rushmore. This is the least graceful of the methods. You climb up the rung and then whip your hand around to the far side of the seat like you are climbing a rock wall. The other option is the “bathtub assistance handle” method. You grab on to the lip of the actual bar, and with one foot on the rung, you gracefully pull yourself up. The key is to distribute your weight properly, so you appear to be alighting the bar stool gracefully, and are just merely placing your hand on the bar for emphasis and are not actually supporting 3/4 of your entire weight with it.

Here is a brief roundup of several new and exciting Bar Stools to give you some pointers.

The pretentious “Mojito” stool is something my eye would immediately go to because of its bright color and streamlined design. However, my butt should never follow. There is no decent way to get up on this slick little number. It is slick to the eye, but also slick to the butt, especially if you are wearing velvet or chenille. You will just find yourself dumped on the floor when you try to pivot on your butt cheeks to try to get a glimpse of the handsome dude down the counter. Sandra Bullock could pull it off, but trust me, you might not be adorable enough.  Well, you could be, but it is not just about looks.  It has to do with comedic timing.  Physical comedy can be a bugger, and you want to make them laugh versus feel very sorry for you poor thing.

The only way this stool should be considered is if it is bolted to the floor.

This little number, I like to call the baby chair. It reminds me of the high chair that grandma had. It had a red seat, and had metal legs. Okay, it is absolutely nothing like this AT ALL, but the proportions are the same. You can see where I am going with this. Don’t sit on this if you are short. It might make other people think of a toddler chair, and it may emphasize your lack of height.

Of course, this is okay if you are among amazons, as the grass is always greener. As much as you would want to be taller, they want to be shorter. Not really. At your age, people have accepted the card they have been dealt, but if this were middle school, there would be many tears.

This model makes up for abject humiliation by being very easy to climb up on. If you see this model, you have to weigh the benefits and see if you rather take a table or will you be bold?

Picture a nearly empty Thai restaurant. Or a sushi bar. Hardly anyone is there because its a meat and potatoes neighborhood. Somehow this restaurant would have been better suited to an artsier fartsier area. I come for the food, but stay for the stools.

Because of the various rungs, I can easily get up on one of these babies easily and semi gracefully. One can put one’s hand anywhere. The drawback? Your keys and wallet could drop through one of those rungs.  DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT let this stool fool you. Just because it is marginally comfy and it is easy to get up on, do not be tempted to do THE LEAN!

What is THE LEAN?   Picture yourself in a regular old chair.  You drop your keys or some sort of utensil on the ground. If it is a utensil, and you are seven years old, your mom would say, “Leave it down there.  Don’t pick that up.  The waitress will get it.”  Mom was not saving you from touching a spoon full of germs.  She was saving you from the embarrassment of leaning sideways over a chair, people being able to look down  your shirt and up your skirt, and you falling in a big mess and waking up the whole restaurant.  Of course, you didn’t have anything for people to see back then, but ending up with your underpants topside is embarrassing for anyone over the age of five.   At about three or four, you still show people your puppy print undies with pride.   In my day, it was Wonder Woman Underoos.

The monolithic bar stools at left remind me of a sort of Stonehenge of bar stools. Or maybe Easter Island. They are monolithic. They have a very wide seat to hold the most generous of derrieres. In fact, they may make my trunk look quite compact versus Mac truck size. Oh wait, Mac trucks don’t have trunks in the traditional sense. But they do need to pull a whole trailer for the junk that they would potentially have in it if they had one.There are several drawbacks to these as well, despite the generosity of their seat.

As you can imagine, if these are bolted to the floor, they get a thumb up. If not, this is another stool that you would be enticed to do THE LEAN on but shouldn’t. What my main concern is that someone may shoo you off. You see, the geometric appearance is so tight and perfect, that the weight of you may dimple it, leaving it saggy and baggy.  Any self respecting modernist would come in his/her black turtleneck and frown on you very severely.  Actually, I am mistaken.  You would only see the very slightest curl of the lip corner.  You may barely detect it, but 100 staff members will suddenly scramble into damage control mode when it occurs.

Last but not least is the tulip butt seat.  Okay, its not the “tulip butt” just the tulip.  It is just like the “mislocated asian restaurant” model further up.  There is one difference.  It doesn’t have the key and wallet loser holes in it.  While it may not completely compliment the atomosphere, it is going to be easier to sit on and much more comfortable.  However, what if you decide to pivot?  Will the molded butt imprint on the chair make it difficult.  You are just going to have to report to me from the field so I know what to expect. If you don’t stick, maybe it might need to become the “Official Bar Stool.”

There you have it.   These are the reasons that I do not have the proper credentials to be a barfly. Sorry, Mickey Rourke.  Sorry dude that liked to sit at the Third Street Saloon at Wayne State despite the whole place having plastic tarps for doors. Oh yes, and ordering half cranberry juice and half seltzer water or Vernors doesn’t really lend to “my cred” either.  I’ll stick to the sushi bar…although maybe not because I won’t be able to escape the bar stools of doom.  Maybe I will just have to order take out, and when they ask why I never eat in, I will just tell them I do not meet the height requirement to ride that ride.

Have you entered the BluFrog contest, yet? If not, you need to get off your duster and get cracking. Entries will only be accepted through July 17th, which is this Friday. Not next Friday. The gavel will drop at 11:59 P.M. Eastern Standard Time. For everyone in the fair town of Mukwonago, Wisconsin, it means 10:50 P.M. If you are sitting in traffic in Encino, it means that you will have to get going on this before 8:59 P.M.  You may just want to make sure you get off of work early that day, or just bite the bullet and enter now while you are thinking about it.

The prizes that BluFrog, the latest “healthy” energy drink, has in store include a trip to the X Games in Vail, Colorado. There are other prizes, such as a Richard Petty racing experience, if snow and you do not mix. If you just don’t “do” the outdoors as all and want to sit on your keister, there is an Ultimate Gaming Experience.

Go to the BluFrog page and follow the instructions. You may tweet, blog, or comment to win. Anyone can enter, but only those who are 18 or over, and are also legal residents of the United States may win.  More details on the prizes and rules can be found on the page.   You can view it here with a superduper magnifying glass, changing the resolution on your screen to see The Snack Hound blog as ants and fleas would see it, or just simply go to the page.

Why am I making such a big deal out of it?  I don’t want you to blame me when you read my blog and wish I would have reminded you.  It is “all you” now.  I did my part, so it is up to you to write it on the calendar or type it in to that little calendar alarm thingie on your phone.