10 Gourmet Specialties For Hungry Bloggers!

FullSizeRender (9)I’m opening a new restaurant which will cater to Bloggers everywhere. Here are some of the highly recommended dishes.

        MENU

1.  Bloghetti & Tweetballs

2. “All You Can View” Stew served in a Writer’s Block Crock pot.

3.  Allegory Albacorey Tuna on Spellcheck Spelt

4.  Hacked Halibut w/ Plagiarized Potatoes & Tender AsPUNagus Tips

5.  Posted Eggs, Edited Over Easy. Served with Permalink sausage with choice of (depending how your writing is going) Belgium Awfuls or Fancakes, drizzled with Blog Cabin Syrup.

6.  Quotation Quinoa Quiche with Jumbled, Crumbled, Stumbled-Upon Mumbo Jumbo Gumbo

7.  Choice of Mixed Metaphor Mesclun salad OR Cliched Clam Chowder – – served with a butter-me-up flaky blogroll.

8.  So You Think You’ve Posted the Holy Grail Lobster Tail? (served with corny kale!)

9.  Dangling Participle Pasta – – Garnished w/ Grated Gravitar Graphics

10. Sauteed Jumbo Shrimp Daily Prawnmpts with Freshly Pressed Garlic and Cleverly Clarified Butter

11. Asian Typing Tai Pei with Wasabi Widgets

 STARVING WRITER’S SPECIAL: Blank Screens Frank & Beans with Wordless Watermelon

AFTER YOUR MEAL, Please Enjoy . . . 

Keyword Keylime Pie

Simile Spumoni

Deleted Donuts

Ping-Back Pumpkin Pie

Published Plum Pudding

Dashboard Cheeseboard

Expressive Espresso

Italian Italicized Ice

OR . . . we could always just eat our own words.

 

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Your Holiday Buffet. . . Will it Include Warren Buffett?

pumpkin pieWhat is it about standing in line for food that brings out the DMV in people?  This holiday season, whether you’re (smart and) eating out at a restaurant, serving the hearty meal in your own home, or partaking in the holiday at someone else’s house, chances are the scene will not resemble a Norman Rockwell painting. People will be getting up from the main table to obtain food from what we call a “Buffet.”

We do know this is pronounced Buffay, correct?  It’s not spoken like a line from a famous nursery rhyme.  “Little Miss Muffet sat on a Tuffet to eat at a Buffet!”  Right?

Now that we’ve cleared up the French influence on our language, you’re in luck!  Little Miss Menopause has some tips and rules to offer about Buffets, along with giving her thanks for your readership!

But first a little lesson on the types of individuals you are likely to encounter at a Buffet:

A Buffeter Surveyer – – These are people who have read “helpful” articles with tips about losing weight during Thanksgiving and have come to view the offerings in their entirety prior to making their careful selections. They have been promised that if they have a calm, relaxed demeanor and a predetermined game plan approaching the Buffet, they will not gain five pounds. Most of these people will methodically walk the length of the buffet before diving in head first.  It’s best to back up and give them a running start.  Note:  If you’ve read the same articles, it’s far too late to remind them that using a salad size plate instead of entree size can fool the eye and trick the stomach.

A Buffeter Overstayer – – They think of the buffet as their home base. They will continuously loiter, integrating all kinds of tasks into the buffet. Talking, eating, wiping, consulting, organizing, refilling, and generally becoming a permanent fixture at a buffet. They are not compatible with the next type…

A Buffeter Get-out-of-my-Wayer! – – He means business.  Napkin tucked, first in line, and making appreciative sounds that make you wonder if a nearby barnyard has taken attendance recently.

A Buffeter Prayer Sayer – – A religious woman who’s extremely graceful.  Literally.  She makes sure Grace has been said in all languages, in all cultures, as she prays for starving people everywhere. Very thoughtful too – – if there are leftovers she will pack a doggy-bag for God.

A Buffeter Cabareter – – Usually a former preschool teacher who know lots of holiday songs and won’t hesitate to coerce people in line to join in with “Ten Little Indians” or “Pumpkin Pie in the Sky!” And you better at least lip synch when she divides you up into sections for her round of  “Gobble, Bobble, Wobble” or she’ll belt it all out on her own.

A Buffeter Delayer – – You know they want food, they know they want food, but they will stay seated until the last person gets up, not wanting to appear overeager.  Then they will talk until next year about how you didn’t prepare enough grub.

A Buffeter Weigher – – Such a killjoy.  They recite calorie counts for everything and whip out their little kitchen scales to do an official cranberry calibration.

A Buffeter Layerer – – This person is obsessed with rearranging the sumptuous spread and digging through layers of turkey or yams looking for who knows what.  Tongs are their favorite tool of choice but they can function just as well with a spatula too.

A Buffeter Sprayer – – It would be less offensive if this person was merely having an allergy attack. But that’s usually not the case. Need I say more? I needn’t.

A Buffeter Okayer – -You’ll not meet a more pleasant, jovial person in the line tomorrow. The answers to the following questions will always be “Okay!” 1. Can I go in front of you?  2. How’ve you been since last Thanksgiving?  3. Do you think I should goose cousin Cindy as she takes some goose? 

A Buffeter Trayer – – They frequent cruise ships and Las Vegas so they are professionals and bring their own tray.  It looks suspiciously like the one at Soup Plantation.  But it helps them with efficiency because balancing full plates is really not their thing.

A Buffeter Bouqueter – – These are gardening people and if the hostess has thoughtfully decorated with floral centerpieces, that’s all they will talk about.  You’d think they would prefer Roasted pale pink Roses or Fried Fuschia Freesia to light or dark turkey parts.

A Buffeter Betrayer – – Intimately acquainted with the hostess, they won’t hesitate to tell all they know. “That salad she claims is organic?  Nope.  And it’s a Costco pumpkin pie this year.  Skip the sweet potatoes, she doesn’t wash the skins.” Etc.

A Buffeter Clichér  – – Like the turkey, this guy’s vocabulary is stuffed full of stupid puns and double entendres. While staring at the carved bird, he’s bound to remark, “Looks scary….it’s a Goblin!” Or “I’m suddenly in a Fowl mood!”  Tell him you gave up laughing at stupid jokes ‘Cold Turkey’ and move along. 

A Buffeter Halfwayer – – They nearly get to the end of the food display when they realize they forgot to grab a ladle full of salad dressing some twelve platters ago. Now they’re gonna stand frozen and flummoxed in line, wondering how they can politely go backwards.  Say this: “Grandma, want me to get you some Ranch?” Problem solved.

A Buffeter FoulPlayer – – If it’s accidental, it can be forgiven – –  but younger buffet-goers will drop a cherry tomato into the gravy to see if it floats or sinks.  That’s just the beginning of the havoc they can wreak and I hesitate to offer more examples lest I give them other ideas.

A Buffeter OyVeyer – – Being Jewish, I’ve met more than my share. Starts with, “Oy Vey, my doctor says my triglycerides are sky high lately.”  Ask them what a triglyceride is and they’ll just sigh deeply and say, “Oy Vey, I really shouldn’t be eating that.” or worse, “Oy Vey, should YOU really be eating that??”

A Buffeter Essayer – – Someone who goes around observing and interviewing people in line at buffets in the hopes of writing a funny blog post because she has nothing better to put out on Thanksgiving. The nerve.

A Jimmy Buffetter Buffeter — Related to the Buffeter Cabareter (above) but you’ll truly be impressed with how much of the “Wasting Away in Margaritaville” lyrics they actually know. “Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame, but I know, it’s my own damn fault. . . ” is only the beginning!

That blonde in the lower left is about to get her fingers slammed in the chafing dish lid. Not just chaffed, SLAMMED!

That blonde in the lower left is about to get her fingers slammed in the chafing dish lid. Not just chaffed, SLAMMED!

And now for some quick rules.  Just a few though, because everyone knows the rule is “there’s no rules on Thanksgiving!”

Don’t Go Astray And Disobey the Array of the Display at the Buffet!   (The 10 Commandments)

1.  Thou Shalt Not Cut The Line – – I know, I know….you just want seconds on the lamb.  But isn’t that a different holiday food anyhow?

2.  Thou Shalt Not Switch Direction: Buffets go in one direction only. Don’t start making your way through the line from the opposite direction. A big hint — you will find yourself carrying food in your hands because the plates are on the other side.

3. Thou Shalt Watch Thy Children: Always escort young children, say 10 or younger, to the buffet. And give them second helpings of the creamed acorn squash in the hopes that one of the ingredients is Valium or Xanax.

4. Thou Shalt Keep Thy Fingers to Thyself: Kids aren’t the only offenders here. Adults are just as likely to get excited and grab something quickly because nobody is looking.  I see you.  I always see you.

5. Thou Shalt Not Move Tongs: Never, ever move the tongs from one platter or hot food station to another. What if the person behind you has allergies to shrimp and you’ve just moved the tongs from a shrimp dish to a turkey dish? What if that person is kosher or vegetarian?  Ever think of that you “Tong Trader” you?  Need a gentle reminder?  Hum the “It’s just Wrong to move a Tong” song.  Don’t know that one?  Make friends with the preschool teacher who sings in buffet lines mentioned above.

6. Thou Shalt Not Eat in Line:  It’s amazing how many people you run into who are suddenly extremely diabetic or hypoglycemic and must have their food right NOW at a buffet.

7. Thou Shalt Not Take More Than Thou Can Eat: Buffet dining, by its very nature, is gluttonous, but that doesn’t mean you have to be! “If you’re a glutton with the mutton, you’ll need to move your shirt button! La, la, la, la!”  Okay, so I dine with a certain preschool teacher quite often!  Similarly, don’t take the last baked potato because it’s rude to leave the people behind you with an empty serving tray.  If you do, stealthily stick up a little sign that says, “Kilroy was here” so they can at least laugh at their ill-fortune.

8. Thou Shalt Use a New Plate Each Time: If you go back for seconds, leave your original plate at the table and get a fresh one each time.  Why this is, I’ll never know . . .  but I get admonished for it all the time.  (Perhaps a hygiene specialist can elaborate on how this could cause cross-contamination in the comment section?)

9. Thou Shalt Wash Thy Hands: Sticking with the cleanliness theme, always wash your hands before getting in the buffet line. You might not be touching the food directly, but you will be handling the serving utensils.  And I actually GET this one, so no explaining in the comments section will be necessary,  you Germaphobes.)

10. Thou Shalt Not Make a Doggie Bag: Don’t even think to ask.  There are no doggie bags at buffets, NO exceptions. A napkin squirreled quickly away inside your purse will always suffice. Men without handbags are outa luck and will need to be super nice to their wives for leftovers back home.

It was not beyond me to do this at a Buffet.  Yes, food was served inside wagons, dump-trucks, watering cans, pails and eaten with shovels.  Rest easy, it was for a kid's party!

It was not beyond me to do this at a Buffet. Yes, food was served inside wagons, dump-trucks, watering cans, pails and eaten with shovels. Rest easy, it was for a kid’s party!

I’ll Have the Menopasta w/ a Side of Heatballs, please!

photo-413

Warning:  Male Diners:  Do Not patronize this 1 * starlet establishment!  And male readers?  Scroll to the next Football article.

In this day and age, (especially at my age!) with the influx of baby boomer women reaching their mid-life years, it’s about time someone finally got smart and opened a restaurant specializing in issues exclusive to menopausal females. Women come to these establishments for a little R & R, hence their name — “Rest-or-Rants!”

I invite you to accompany me during tonight’s dining experience, complete from droopy butts  soup-to-nuts.

As I stroll inside, I immediately detect the light strains of Carly Simon crooning in the background, “I haven’t got time for the pain…” (so far so good!) followed by a cheery greeting from the “Hostess with the Mostest…” wrinkles, that is. But how refreshing to be seated by a Menopausal Mama instead of the usual “Stunning, Spanxless, Skinny-Jeaned, Stiletto-Heeled, Sexy Siren named Savannah.”

“Hello! I’m Esther Jen!” her hostess’ badge proclaims. I later find that customers too, don these cute name tags, saving us from resorting to clever word-association tricks to recall our table mate’s names.  Like this one:  “Okay, she chatters like a Magpie bird, so remember her name is Maggie. Wait, maybe it’s Robin? Or Raven? How about Sapsucker?”

Next order of business — decide whether I prefer to sit in the “Fanning or Non-Fanning” section. I won’t tell you which one I choose, because it will be apparent as Esther Jen (say that 5 times fast) leads me to my table. All around, women in various stages of sweating, swooning, swelling, swearing and swallowing (pills) — complain to their male servers (not waiters, women our age hate to wait!) in irritated tones, while their husbands catch a break, reading Victoria Secret catalogues at home.

THOUGHTFUL TOUCHES INCLUDE:

• Napkins folded/creased like makeshift fans.

• Medicine droppers and syringes in place of silverware.

• Placemats have guided meditations printed on them.

• Plates perched on pillows for unexpected naps.

• Water glasses refilled constantly with Icy Stares from servers.

Since this is an upscale Rest-or-Rant, a well-dressed woman walks around with a basket of Ice for the gentleman to purchase for his lady. Choice of Cubed, Chipped, or Shaved. For the discerning woman, room temperature ice is available upon request.

Esther places the menu before me with a conspicuous placard stating it will be left during the entire meal for use as a fan. I notice it also has a magnifying glass attached by a ribbon for reading.

SPECIAL OF THE DAY:

Wilted Insomnia on a bed of Lettuce (lettuce sleep please!) tossed (and turned) with Mean Goddess dressing.

Black Cohash Succatash Squash gently sautéed in Evening Primrose Oil.

Chicken Tender Breasts battered with Lose Your Temper Tempura

Hot (Flash) Sundae.

MAIN ENTREES & SIDE DISHES: Past-Your-Prime Rib, Alaskan King Cramps, Forgetful Farfalle, Beef Swellington, SlamDoory Chicken deep-fried with a vengeance, Arugula Adrenala, Nip N’ Tuck Duck with caramelized Cortisol, Taming of the Shrew Stew with hot-flashed, rehashed browns, Fetchabikini Afraido paired with Beach Wobbler for dessert, Chicken Cancha FriggenSee? Accompanied by Shredded Wits with Toasted Testosterone, and I’ma Crack Pot Roast served w/ Half-Baked potato with sex-drives chives.

BEVERAGES: Iced Tea, Iced Coffee, Iced Milk, Iced Diet Pepsi (or Irregular Pepsi) and of course, Iced Ice. Dr. Pepper is available by appointment only.

DESSERTS: (Forget gluten free, these are Glutton free) Muffin Tops, Pumpkin Praline Progesterone Pie, Part-Gray Parfait with Melatonin Mints, TearsofMissYou Tiramisu (the self-pity dessert)

I-SCREAM FLAVORS: Rocky Road, Cookies & Cramps, Schitzopolitan
Whine List: Chabliss, Chagrin, Chabloat, Crabbyday SaveYourYawn, and a White Sinfandel or Merlobido that will make you Blush.

As I decide what I’d like to eat, a fellow diner is chewing far too loudly so I tell him he reminds my of my ex-husband. He pokes me hard and I startle awake with typical nightsweat irritation before I am able to slap him back. Yes it’s all been just a wild dream, which is disappointing because I was hoping to somehow order what Meg Ryan was having.

 

 

What Do Bloggers Eat at a Meet & Greet ??

Maybe they eat "Meet(and greet!)Balls?

Maybe they eat “Meet(and greet!)Balls?

Seriously?  What was I thinking?  Registering for a huge Blogging Conference like BlogHer 2014?   I can’t converse with anyone verbally.  That’s why I became a writer in the first place.  And I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, I don’t talk, I don’t drink and I don’t dance. All I do is sit in front of a keyboard and type.

And the only reason I’m capable of that is because I’m protected by the online anonymity.  But that will be stripped away, too.  I’ll have to wear one of those “Hello!  I’m Little Miss Menopause!” name tags.  And then people will approach me.  And say, “Really?  You’re not so little.”  Or, “How can you be a Miss if you’re divorced?  Wouldn’t that make you a Ms?”  Or, “So are you having a hot flash right this minute or are you just nervous to meet me?”

And then I am going to have a roommate.  What if she is a serious and substantial T-Bone Steak type blogger and thinks all us humor bloggers are just a jar of Marshmallow Fluff?  And if she’s one of those types who partakes in a specific, odd nightly routine.  Let’s say she takes a bubble bath, popping all but 11 bubbles, says prayers backwards, does 100 crunches to disguise the fact that she’s carried twins, sticks her head in the hotel mini-bar fridge for an hour, slathers on some awful smelling night creme and then humors   fluffs her pillow exactly 7 times on each side?  Oh wait, that’s my nightly routine.

Oh dear. What number Fluff was I on?  Guess I'll have to start all over.

Oh dear. What number Fluff was I on? Guess I’ll have to start all over.

And then I’ll go to the fancy hotel ballroom for my meals.  And people are going to sit at tables without any laptops to keep their hands busy. What will we all do with our fingers besides tapping on the tablecloth like it’s an imaginary keyboard?  Maybe the centerpieces will be glitzy computer screens with the words, “Once Upon a Time….” typed in Helvetica font.

Of course the elegant board with our various dining choices will fall from the table and crash on to my lap, because that’s what “Drop-Down Menus” do.  And no doubt, I’ll be very confused as to what to order at this BlogFeast.  If I wanted my soggy, bloggy cereal, I shoulda just stayed at home.  There’s a whole lot more creative food choices to nourish a Blogger than just Alphabet Soup, you know.    Let’s have a look . . .

BLOG CONFERENCE MEAL OPTIONS

Whether You’re Famous, Famished or Already Full (of yourself!)

It will be Love At First Bite!   Write!

BREAKFAST:

Posted Eggs, Edited Over Easy.  Served with Permalink sausage with choice of (depending how your writing is going) Belgium Awfuls or Fancakes, drizzled with Blog Cabin Syrup.

OR

Quotation Quinoa Quiche with Jumbled, Crumbled, Stumbled-Upon Mumbo Jumbo.

OR

Jotted, Blotted Frittata served with a Scone Poem

Bold, Seasoned Condiment Comments by Request

 

LUNCH

All entrees (entries) accompanied with a Flaky BlogRoll & Butter and your choice of Mixed Metaphor Mesclun salad, Cliched Clam Chowder or Stat Pea Soup.

“All You Can View” Stew served in a Writer’s Block Crock pot.

   OR

Dangling Participle Pasta – – Garnished w/ Grated Gravitar Graphics

OR

Steamy, Creamy, Dreamy Porkography – – Archived Anchovies

OR

Widget Wasabi Won-Tons  & Parsnip Snippets, Turnip Tags

OR

Bloghetti & Tweetballs served over Doughy Poetry

OR

Allegory Albacorey Tuna on Spellcheck Spelt

 

DINNER

Sauteed Jumbo Shrimp Daily Prawmpts with Freshly Pressed Garlic and Cleverly Clarified Butter

OR

Tempura Templates  w/ chopped, cropped Images of Inspiration

OR

So You Think You’ve Posted the Holy Grail Lobster Tail?  And Corny Kale

  OR

Hacked Halibut w/ Plagiarized Potatoes &  Tender AsPUNagus Tips

OR

FRENCH CUISINE:  – – Blog Hop Frog Legs & Escargot Escape Buttons

OR

STARVING WRITER’S SPECIAL: Blank Screens Frank & Beans w/  Wordless Watermelon

 

AFTER YOUR MEAL

Keyword Keylime Pie

Simile Spumoni

Deleted Donuts

Ping-Back Pumpkin Pie

Published Plum Pudding

Dashboard Cheeseboard

Expressive Espresso

Italian Italicized Ice

 I better stop here because I’m afraid one of my clever readers is going to make me eat my own words! 

Disclaimer:  If someone asks me what the hell I’m doing there, I will actually be able to justify my presence.  It seems that I was selected for 1 of 25 “Voices of the Year” in the Humor category.  Now that’s a real laugh.

But if you don’t have indigestion by now and would like to read the post that got me that honor.  Click Here. 

Yes, I could very well have made this badge up on Photoshop . . . if I wasn't so computer challenged.

Yes, I could very well have made this badge up on Photoshop . . . if I wasn’t so computer challenged.