captain oh my captain

My fingers were soaked in oil as I pushed the bits of potato around our plate, “but the good one’s wouldn’t be as good if there were a plate full of them”. I love French fries, it’s a disgusting habit, much like my pizza and nicotine addiction, but I can’t help it, I am a slave to the potato. The best fries are the tiny ones that are overcooked to perfection and crunch and melt in your mouth in a delicious contradictive melody, they’re especially good if you get them from Friti, Pommes Frites, or Zuni Café. If you are not near any of these establishments, you can try scoring some at Micky D’s, but good luck there.

“You’re just as neurotic as I am!” N exclaimed, (this coming from a guy who doesn’t eat the insides of bread or eggs. I mean come on! ) “It just wouldn’t be as good if all the French fries were the little crunchy ones, you have to eat the normal ones to get to the good stuff” I explained, “It’s like when they made crunch berry cereal, that took all the fun out of it” he eyed me like I was bananas “Look, remember Saturday morning, it’s you, He-man and your bowl of Capt’n? Part of the joys of Saturday morning and captain crunch (beside that weird film it leaves on the roof of your mouth) is eating all the yellow corn starchy things first and leaving only the crunch berries and violet milk for you to noisily slurp out of the side of the bowl. When they made the cereal that was all crunch berries, it didn’t taste the same. The build of anticipation wasn’t there, eating the mediocre yellow pieces made the berries that much sweeter.”

I guess it’s true sometimes in life as well. If we didn’t have to eat the crap yellow pieces, perhaps our berries just wouldn’t be as sweet.

PS. I stole the captain crunch image, so if it's yours let me know and I'll give you credit or take it down