Today we talk about yesterday's experience with a pretzel hamburger roll from Country Mart. Yeah, I don't think you need to worry unless you're shopping at the Hillmomba Country Mart. I shy away from buying fresh foodstuffs there, because on more than one occasion I've discovered that their fresh foodstuffs were expired when I took them out of the bag to put away.
Anyhoo...in a moment of weakness earlier in the week, I bought a bag of four pretzel hamburger rolls while I was picking up bananas for Farmer H on Sunday. The bakery section is adjacent to the produce, and they reeled me in. I would never eat a hamburger on a pretzel roll. Let's establish that fact right up front. I wanted the pretzel hamburger roll simply as a roll. The date on the bag was 08-28. That's way next week, you know. Even so, I put them in FRIG II as soon as I got home.
Last night, I took a roll to my dark basement lair. I've been leaving the light on for a while now, you know. It was not the first of the two remaining rolls that I took out of the bag, because that one had a little spot of mold on it! On 08-22, when it was supposed to be good until 08-28. But I was willing to let that slide. I had already enjoyed two rolls from the bag this week, and there was still another. I could probably have pinched off that tiny spot, and eaten it anyway, but I set it aside for the dogs, and grabbed the lone roll from the bag.
Anyhoo...I was happily wasting away time not-blogging, noshing on my pretzel roll with a side of baked chicken. Then all at once, I wasn't! I took a bite all right. But it was not satisfying. That's because I was eating AIR!
Believe you me, that's an exquisitely flattering photo of my pretzel hamburger roll. I posed it on a paper towel beside my purple bubba cup, trying to show the extent of the lack of roll...but I don't think infinity photographs well. That hole engulfs the entire interior of the roll!
Oh, well. Sometimes you make wise choices, and sometimes you have wise choices thrust upon you.
Pretzel rolls. The word pretzels should have been the key. Pretzels are twisted around and have several holes--at least 4, I guess. And you have the nerve to complain about only ONE hole?
ReplyDeleteGood grief.
Count that hole and realize that you're one day closer to FHRD.
Sioux,
ReplyDeleteI am tied up in knots like a pretzel just thinking about FHRD! Today he came home with a card and a parting gift from second shift's surprise going-away non-party. Tomorrow they're having a catered dinner for him. He asked for BBQ. Friends from the city and the fire department and various sales staff have been invited. I am respectfully staying home, even though invited. That way Farmer H won't have to worry (as IF) whether I'm having a good time, or wanting to leave. HOS and The Veteran are going. They fit better with the factory crowd than I do. Farmer H says he does not mind my absence. I just think about how it was at MY workplace, and how spouses seem kind of out-of-place when they are around the staff.
He works three days next week...and then he's ALL MINE.
Maybe they should change the name to hollow pretzel rolls.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteSee? If only that name was on the package, I would not have gotten all discombobulated when I bit into air. Then again, I wouldn't have had a blog post...