The Unbearable Banishment: A meal fit for a king. Here, King! Here, King!

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

A meal fit for a king. Here, King! Here, King!

I missed dinner with the family because I wanted to go to the gym. It's been a while and my pants are a little tight in the waist. When I got home I was on my own and had to fend for myself. Mrs. Wife offered me some lovely leftover pasta and shrimp, but I decided to graze instead. Have you ever done that? Just kind of picked around the kitchen until you've nibbled about a meal's worth of food? It's hard to know when to stop. Here's what I ate for dinner:

A tuna sandwich
A slice of (leftover birthday) apple pie
A handful of Life cereal
A half a dozen grapes
A dollop of Skippy extra crunchy peanut butter on my index finger
The rest of the Lay's Kettle Cooked chips
A Klondike ice cream sandwich.
One red Twizzler

How positively revolting.

* * *

In the summertime, every New Yorker knows where to get dessert during their after-meal walk up the Avenue.

Mister Softee and the Empire State Building: two New York City icons

Be careful of imitations! Accept no substitutes! No matter where you are in Manhattan, from May through August, a Mister Softee truck is just steps away. They're like cockroaches. The ubiquitous Mister Softee jingle has been driving New Yorkers mad for 50 years. There were so many complaints about the jingle over the years that, by law, it can now only be played while the truck is in motion. THAT'S what I call an earworm. Imagine what it must be like for the poor drivers.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think the King is going to need to spend some quality time on the throne.

July 13, 2010 at 7:33 AM  
Anonymous daisyfae said...

i graze many meals. that's perhaps why i have the arse of a cow... i miss Mr. Softee. the ice cream vendor, not that guy i dated briefly after my divorce...

July 13, 2010 at 7:43 AM  
Blogger mapstew said...

Doing a workout to make room for the crap food? My jeans are getting a bit toght too, must have the temp up too high in the drier!

We've got 'Mr. Whippy' here. The bastards come around at noon, in the rain! With their 'Popeye theme jingles. How's a rock-star supposed to sleep? :¬)

July 13, 2010 at 7:44 AM  
Blogger mapstew said...

That should read 'tight' not 'toght'. I really should read before I hit publish! :¬)

July 13, 2010 at 7:47 AM  
Blogger The Unbearable Banishment said...

kykn: Hey! I didn't know you worked blue!

Daisy: Perhaps your Mr. Softee needed an introduction to Uncle Viagra.

Map: I'll bey Mr. Softee can kick Mr. Whippy's ass. And working out is a massive waste of time unless you watch what you eat.

July 13, 2010 at 7:47 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Do you still feel you have one over on the family when you open the jar of Peanut Butter as soon as you get home from the grocery store; strategically place the foil back on the lid as if it has never been opened? Only to find out you had your finger in it already? OH how I miss those days.

July 13, 2010 at 7:50 AM  
Blogger Pat said...

Does Mt Softee do rum and raisin?
Grazing isn't allowed in these parts so my pants don't get too tight.

July 13, 2010 at 8:24 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

did you stick your finger in the jar?

July 13, 2010 at 8:27 AM  
Anonymous Sid said...

Ice-cream sandwich? Guessing you don't mean ice-cream btw two slices of bread.

July 13, 2010 at 8:56 AM  
Blogger The Unbearable Banishment said...

MT: Old habits die hard.

Pat: Mr. Softee does chocolate and vanilla. And sprinkles. You are a strong, powerful woman. Who can resist grazing?!??!

Dolce: Yes, I did (do). Up to the first knuckle. And I drink right out of the milk carton, as well. I'm just a guy. That's all I'll ever be.

Sid: No. It's vanilla ice cream between two thin wafers of chocolate cookie. I wish I had one right now.

July 13, 2010 at 9:00 AM  
Blogger Ponita in Real Life said...

Being the only human in the household, I live like that all the time... the grazing, that is... not the working out. Although I should take Pat's lead... as my pants are a bit snug too.

July 13, 2010 at 9:52 AM  
Blogger Ms Scarlet said...

I had to give up grazing due to the things getting tight factor... but once a month I go mental and eat whatever I fancy... and because it's a treat, it tastes better.

July 13, 2010 at 10:06 AM  
Anonymous nuttycow said...

You can join me on my quest to lose before 1st September!

Come on, you'll beat me, for sure. I've just pigged out on some peanut M&Ms!

July 13, 2010 at 10:56 AM  
Blogger CiCi said...

Sounds like a well rounded meal to me. We eat kinda like that lots of the time.

July 13, 2010 at 12:03 PM  
Blogger Eryl said...

I've never had an ice-cream sandwich, as you describe it, but I will make sure I do before I next get on the scales.

I'm sure I've seen Mr Softee vans vans here but I could have imagined it. I love van ice-cream though, whatever the name.

July 13, 2010 at 12:08 PM  
Blogger The Unbearable Banishment said...

Ponita: Grazing is such a slippery slope. You never know when to stop until it's too late!

Scarlet: That's actually an excellent way to live. Once a month isn't bad for you. Enjoy! As long as it doesn't become a lifestyle.

Nutty: Be strong! Control your urges! Who is in charge here? You or your childish impulses?

TB: I believe I covered all the important food groups. And then some.

ES: Mr. Softee ice cream has an evil addictive chemical added to it. It must! When you hear the truck playing the jingle, you are inexplicably drawn towards it. No better than Pavlov's dogs!

July 13, 2010 at 1:03 PM  
Blogger BrightenedBoy said...

I kitchen graze all the time, and eat a bit more than that paltry meal if I do say so myself.

It revolts you, of course, but don't you love doing it?

July 13, 2010 at 2:52 PM  
Blogger Everyday Goddess said...

i was a grazer until i started to write down everything i ate in an effort to downsize myself. now i'm a meal person with a start time and an end time to eating. grazing can go on for hours...

but a stop by mr. softee isn't the end of the world, enjoy!

July 13, 2010 at 9:43 PM  
Blogger Here In Franklin said...

From which child did you steal the Twizzler? :)

July 13, 2010 at 10:02 PM  
Blogger JZ said...

Its a cruel joke played by Mother Nature. You work out to stay healthy....maintain a healthy weight. Then your metabolism jumps off the Geiger counter and you feel like you are absolutely starving. The caloric retribution of that meal most likely will leave you puzzled as to why your pants fit even a little bit tighter in the morn. Perhaps I've never done it right. "Perhaps"? Hell, have you seen me lately? I KNOW.

July 13, 2010 at 10:23 PM  
Anonymous nursemyra said...

There's nothing quite like an index finger covered in peanut butter

July 14, 2010 at 5:06 AM  
Blogger The Unbearable Banishment said...

BB: You're right. Why are all the decadent activities fraught with pleasure? A question for the ages.

EG: For a real fright/thrill, write down all your discretionary spending. You'd be surprised how much slips through your fingers unnoticed.

HIF: Twizzlers are a staple in the Unbearable household in the summer. They're good beach food. You can brush the sand right off. Unless they're wet.

JZ: It would then stand to reason that the less I work out, the less hungry I'd be. That's it. I'm never going to the gym again. It's wrecking my physique.

Nurse: A person could do quite a lot with that.

July 14, 2010 at 7:12 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Red twizzler...sounds like a firework or a euphemism for "gentleman's problems."

I hate peanut butter. Not American, see.

July 14, 2010 at 5:49 PM  

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