Burning Food

Burn Baby Burn

I just have to begin with one of my favorite poems. This was actually the first poem I ever taught in a college class, when I was an old man of twenty.

“I Celebrate myself, and sing myself,

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.”

Who would have thought Walt Whitman was into atomic theory? That influenced me into turning these crap taco shells, and their crap packaging, into their individual atoms.

Hereby hangs a tale.

My wife Melanie Jane decided she had a hankering for some really crispy Tacos, of the restaurant variety. I said I could make some shells, but she insisted that I buy some instead. I trucked on off to our local supermarket, and they had a grand total of one brand for sale. The package said “Made with three ingredients,” so I assumed that was better than a M*Donald’s bun, that was made with fifty.

Wrong, because three wrongs do not make a right. One or two of the three ingredients were said to be “genetically engineered,” which is a weasel way of saying genetically modified. The “Limed corn flour” was the obvious first choice, but then there was also the vein clogging palm oil. Pick your poison.

I had to do some genetic engineering myself. These jokers were about to be lit.

These taco shells were far too bad to donate to a food bank. No one should have to eat garbage just because they are poor. Perhaps these atoms can be reincarnated into something useful.

A man can always dream.

Author: southernfusionfood

Writer, Woodworker, and Happy Eater

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