I've somewhat grudgingly accepted that turkey bacon is not going to go away.
What really leaves a bad taste in my mouth is brussels sprouts. I suppose I belong to an older generation, with different values - we weren't raised with this politically correct nonsense about "childhood nutrition" and liberal nattering about an alleged "obesity epidemic." When our moms told us to "eat our vegetables" we shoved them around on our plates defiantly and filled up on white bread and gravy.
As long as we're willing to accept green shit that grows in dirt on our plates, that's what the farms will keep churning out. I hold uncritical consumers of salad responsible for the sad, low caloric state of American cuisine, because they're literally eating it up.
But what the hell, "veggies" (hate that word!) in general are aimed at a bunch of kids who know nothing about Gunther beer or unfiltered Lucky Strikes and go whining to the doctor for pills at the first hint of stomach distress. The lot of 'em couldn't deal with constipation if their lives depended on it. They're welcome to their "brussel sprouts," but it leaves me sad that future generations of kids will never experience the mature appreciation of bubble gum cigars and candy cigarettes.
What really leaves a bad taste in my mouth is brussels sprouts. I suppose I belong to an older generation, with different values - we weren't raised with this politically correct nonsense about "childhood nutrition" and liberal nattering about an alleged "obesity epidemic." When our moms told us to "eat our vegetables" we shoved them around on our plates defiantly and filled up on white bread and gravy.
As long as we're willing to accept green shit that grows in dirt on our plates, that's what the farms will keep churning out. I hold uncritical consumers of salad responsible for the sad, low caloric state of American cuisine, because they're literally eating it up.
But what the hell, "veggies" (hate that word!) in general are aimed at a bunch of kids who know nothing about Gunther beer or unfiltered Lucky Strikes and go whining to the doctor for pills at the first hint of stomach distress. The lot of 'em couldn't deal with constipation if their lives depended on it. They're welcome to their "brussel sprouts," but it leaves me sad that future generations of kids will never experience the mature appreciation of bubble gum cigars and candy cigarettes.