Smart Car Sighting

Today in Minneapolis I spotted a Smart ForTwo "bumblebee" (what Smart insiders call the black and yellow configuration of the tiny car.) I'm getting a lot of grief about being a tree-hugger and granola cruncher since adopting my Smart car in 2008. So I thought it was darn funny when I noticed the custom license plate of the bumblebee Smart. It read "2VEGANS". Perhaps there is some truth to the granola-crunching stereotype!

The Cheapskate Strikes Again Part II

On behalf of cheapskates everywhere I launched an email complaint campaign against the high price of butter at Bruegger's Bagels. Paying seventy-nine cents extra for a buttered bagel really steamed my clams.

In response to my disappointment over the mind "bagel"-ing price of butter at Bruegger's, I received this conciliatory email from the local area manager:

Ms. Lebens...Thank you for taking the time to let us know about your concerns over our pricing of our prepped bagel (bagel with butter). I am happy to announce that Bruegger's has now lower(sic) the price of our bagel with butter, jelly, or honey to $1.29 plus tax. It is always priority of Bruegger's to give our guests, not only great product and guest service, but also great value. We look forward to your continued business.

Thank you...

Darla M. Cook
Area Manager
Bruegger's Bagels

My fellow cheapskates, I am too humble to take credit for the 74% reduction in the price of butter on your bagel. I assume other cheapskates must have also voiced their discontent. Though the power of speech, you can make change a reality. Or in this case, you can keep more change in your pocket.

The Cheapskate Strikes Again

I am reporting live from Bruegger's Bagels, where I just ordered a wheat bagel (ninety-nine cents on the menu). The counter person asked if I wanted butter with it. I said sure. At the register the bagel rang up for $1.79 plus tax. I asked the register person if the price was right. He looked down at me, grunted, and in a condescending tone informed me a pat of butter costs seventy-nine cents. The butter wasn't even on the menu. Is this some type of new bagel butter scam? The cheapskate part of my brain is flashing red.
It's so sad we don't have Del Taco in Minnesota. For $2 I could have had a Del Taco breakfast fiesta of two egg burritos and hashbrowns. I would give one of the burritos to a homeless person or starving college student and still come out ahead of this somewhat stale, buttered bagel.



A Mouthwatering Del Taco Breakfast Burrito

Sandwich Artist Feeds Starving Programmer

Simplify, Simplify. Instead of three meals a day, if necessary, let it be one. - Henry David Thoreau, Walden, p. 56

I thoroughly enjoy the Veggie Delite sandwich from Subway. Not so much for the content or quality of the food, but for the cheery demeanor of my favorite sandwich artists. I used to work near a Subway where all the employees had tattoos on their neck and scowls on their faces. After being chastised for requesting a glass of water with my sandwich, I was a little intimidated and loathe to return.

Now I work near a Subway with downright fabulous employees. The manager greets me by name every time he sees me. My favorite sandwich artist always gives me extra jalapenos. I don't even have to ask. No one there has ever given me a hard time for asking for a glass of water. The other day the credit card machine was down, and I didn't have cash, so my sandwich artist just let me pay him back for my Veggie Delite today. He looked surprised I remembered and gave me a discount as a thank you.

After a rough morning at work, just having someone cheerfully help with with my sandwich makes my day. The simple pleasures in life are the sweetest. If I had to pick a favorite all-time meal, it would be a Veggie Delite prepared by a cheery sandwich artist.

I Brake for Coffee

The coffee break is a quintessential part of the cube farm environment in which most IT workers slave away. For many programmers, Mountain Dew has replaced the traditional break room machine-dispensed coffee. Since I try to limit my high-fructose corn syrup intake, I am still trying to choke down the peasant coffee from the break room. (Hey, it's free, right? I've saved enough by not attending the Caribou ritual each morning that I've been able to buy a multi-band Walkman™ radio that picks up TV stations. Yup, while you're chugging away on that whipped-cream topped mocha at work I'm listening to Judge Judy.)
One of my brilliant co-workers came up with the idea of adding 1 packet of Hot Cocoa mix to 1 cup of coffee. He calls it the Poor Man's Mocha. It can save you a few dollars a day over a coffee shop mocha, adding up to around $720 a year. (Note: You must use the standard issue mug that holds 6-8 ounces of coffee. The bucket-like Kwikie Mart mug will not work.) I personally use the sugar-free cocoa mix (which is still sweet, but has only 50 calories.)
So, slam on your brakes on the way to Caribou, and make a u-turn for the office break room. It's time to try a Poor Man's Mocha.

A Taco to Die For

Yesterday I enjoyed a double seafood delight - a fishy taco and a shrimp-like taco from my favorite fast food restaurant, Del Taco. I say a shrimp-like taco since the advertisment in the window promised a "shrimp taco" which turned out to contain pink bits of something adhered into curved shapes using a heavy batter. I'm not sure what those battered bits were, but they were no closer to shrimp than the chicken McNugget is to a drumstick. Nonetheless, the taco was delicious and stuffed with crunchy cabbage. Del Taco never fails to delight in the fishy taco department, and although I've never tasted their juicy burgers, I have it on good authority from a friend that they are delectable as well. I stuffed the extra packets of Del Inferno sauce into my handbag so I can apply them later to a microwaved bean burrito. That'd how I get the Del Taco taste I crave when I am miles away from the closest franchise. It gives me something to look forward to during the bleak winter mornings, a little splash of spicy heat.

The Storage of my Life

A few weeks ago, during a hazy period in between writing my final project paper for school and deploying code at work, I stopped into SuperTarget. I just needed to fill a prescription and return a lampshade. Yup, I bought a new lampshade, and it just didn't work out for the lamp on the nightstand. I wanted to get my $5.99 back. So I dropped off my prescription at the pharmacy, returned the lampshade, and wandered the store, hoping the gal at the pharmacy would page me. My stomach was growling, but the snack bar seemed like an unhealthy dinner choice. The same neon yellow popcorn that graced the snack bar when I was five filled the air with a greasy aroma.
In a fugue-like state, brought on by late nights studying and programming, I wandered into the Target linens section. I decided to buy a sheet to replace the bed skirt on my box spring. I've spent the past year and a half playing tug-of-war with the bed skirt, ever since I bought that sort of new bed frame on clearance in the as-is area of IKEA. (That is a whole story unto itself. A lady tried to steal the bed frame out of my cart on the way to the check out. I'll save that one for another day at the blog.) I plopped a nicely packaged brown sheet into my cart, not too colorful, plenty drab as I like my bedroom decor to be.
I spent another hour and seventeen minutes waiting for the pharmacy person to put my pills into a plastic bottle, but I didn't mind too much. There was another headbanger with a mullet and Megadeth shirt waiting in line with me, so I had a pal to chat with. Maybe I should get bangs. A mullet isn't so bad on a girl, is it? I'd enjoy a hairstyle that was business up front, party in the rear. But I digress.
I finally paid for my prescription, muddled my way through the Target checkout and drove home in a safe manner, despite my school and work induced fatigue. I stripped the old bed skirt from the box spring and carefully snugged the crisp, chocolate colored sheet over it. Unfortunately, now all the stuff I keep under the bed is totally visible from the side. There's my skull-and-bones slippers, my Pokemon basketball and some back issues of Car-and-Driver magazine. I need a new storage solution for these items. It's not like strange people wander into my bedroom all that often, but once in a while I like to host a party and have the guests lay their coats on my bed. I have a hall closet, but my grandma always had guests leave winter wear on the bed, so I carry on this tradition.
Now I have a conundrum. I don't want to host a really nice party with fancy little appetizers, real coffee brewing in the percolator and my Pokemon basketball peeking out from under the bed. I need some under-the-bed storage boxes, pronto. This is the storage of my life.
Perhaps a weekend trip to IKEA is in order. They have plentiful under-bed storage options. They specialize in storage arrangements of all types. Plus, I love their vegetarian version of Pyttipanna, a bland and wholesome Swedish stir-fry. I like to chase a plate of Pyttipanna with a cup of IKEA coffee, which is the best in the world. It tastes like it came from a giant percolator in heaven. Who knows? The storage of my life might just be waiting for me at IKEA.


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I hope you enjoy this little video about ALDI milk and cake.
I couldn't find one glorifying the strudel, but this comes quite close.
Enjoy your milch and kuchen. Yummy!

A Whopper of a Meal

Whopper with Cheese, 850 calories. Ruby Tuesday Veggie Burger, 953 calories. (Check out this PDF of calories for their whole menu.) Yes, I made the terrible mistake of ordering this vegan caloric monstrosity for lunch today. The only thing larger than the calorie count was the bill. Who charges $3.49 for an iced tea? Why didn't I just go to Taco Bell? Arrrrgh!

Airline Meals are Yummy

As I write this I am aloft on Sun Country flight 702, patiently waiting for my cheese sandwich to be delivered by the friendly attendants. Cafeteria food is definitely my first culinary love, but airline meals are a close second. The crinkle of the little plastic pouches in which the sandwiches are served makes me salivate.
Northwest features snack boxes available for purchase on many of their flights. Imagine a whole box of tiny goodies like crackers and cheese food product pre-packaged for your delight. Once my snack box even contained two cheese food packets. One was "havarti" and the other "sharp cheddar", although they tasted remarkably alike.
I learned from the in-flight magazine that there is an entire website devoted high-flying cuisine, airlinemeals.net This particular plane does not feature WiFi access, so I haven't checked out airlinemeals.net just yet. As soon as I am ensconced in my den with my tiny laptop, a.k.a. the Convertible, you know which site I'll enjoy perusing first. Maybe I can work up an appetite for dinner.

Free Rice

I'm usually known as Java Mary, Ruthless Mary or The Build Monkey around the office, but after I am finished programming for the day, I morph into Mary the English Major. My alter ego enjoys listening to public radio, watching Book TV on C-SPAN and of course, reading and writing lots of stuff on paper.
So as an English Major, I am duty-bound to promote FreeRice.com, a site featuring a hip little game that improves your vocabulary. Did you know a budgie is a parakeet? Or that a petcock is a valve (and not an inappropriate subject?) I am furthering my mission to use new words regularly.
In the past, I was reprimanded for using large words in an email directed to a superior. But as an English Major I screwed my courage to the sticking place and strove on in expanding my vocabulary.
Freerice.com donates its advertising revenue to the United Nations World Hunger program to buy rice for hungry people.
I love rice. I use my rice cooker so often I've burned out the element on two of them. My third one features a Chime-O-Matic bell that dings when my rice is ready. When I hear the bell I salivate like Pavlov's dog. Rice is good. I'm counting carbs and rice has a lot of them. But that doesn't matter. I'm just counting carbs, not restricting them. If you're avoiding carbs, you can give away all the rice you want at FreeRice.com without ingesting a single net carb.

Engorged Tonsils

What started as a tickle in my throat on Thanksgiving day evolved into tonsillitis this week. I slogged through the day at work on Monday, thinking I just had a cold. Then Tuesday morning I woke up having trouble swallowing or talking. Those darn giant tonsils! The tonsils are helpful in filtering bacteria and viruses, but sometimes get overwhelmed and swell up so you can't swallow anymore. This is embarrassingly the second time I've had this occur.
According to the Mayo website, this commonly occurs in young children (and apparently in Marys that are seniors in college or graduate students.) Yes, the last time this happened was my senior year at the University of Minnesota. My tonsillitis was accompanied by a high fever and vomiting, plus the I couldn't swallow, so I ended up in the hospital for dehydration.
I had a paper due that week. My English professor kindly docked me only one full letter grade for being in the hospital when I was supposed to be turning in my paper. After he saw my hospital discharge form, he thought instead of an "F" maybe I deserved a "B" for the "A" paper I'd written while gumming Popsicles for dinner and choking in pain. My darn tonsillitis knocked me off the all-A Dean's List that quarter.
I got 60% on a quiz this week, but luckily that was the worst of the academic repercussions of my bout with tonsillitis. I felt worse about having to call in sick for work, even though I know I couldn't really work too efficiently without talking or swallowing.
Fortunately the kindly physician at the Farmington Medical Clinic found a prescription for me that shrunk the swollen tonsil tissue amazingly. After only three days on the medicine, I can speak softly again and today I swallowed a piece of bread!
I've been keeping myself alive with Lipton's tomato cup of soup and Popsicles. Last night I got my lips stuck to a frozen sugar-free fudge pop. There's this weird textured feeling on the inside of my mouth where I lost a bit of skin to the frozen treat. But compared to my tonsils, that hardly hurt a bit.

Caution: What follows may be too graphic for some blog readers. This is an actual picture of a pair of tonsils!

Note the two white arrows designating where the tonsils lie behind the tongue.

An Embarassing Situation Pops Up Over Popcorn

Have you watched the show "Curb Your Enthusiasm"? If not, I recommend it, as long as you have a high tolerance for embarrassment. Larry David, the producer and star, has a penchant for embarrassing situations.
Last week I found myself embroiled in one of those situations. A Cub Scout stopped by selling wreaths. I bought two, one for myself and one for my Grandma. The price was excellent - maybe $15 or something for a real pine wreath, delivered to my house. Cool! I was only the second person to order anything from this poor kid, who was touring the neighborhood with his kindly dad during a thunderstorm. I told him to come back next year and I would definitely buy another wreath. Then he said he'd be selling popcorn soon. I told him to come back with the popcorn sheet. I promised to sign up for a giant tin for my co-workers and one for my grandma.
Well, last week I arrive home from work and my husband is washing his hands after cleaning the garage. He says, "You wouldn't believe this. Some boy scout stopped by selling popcorn. I told him to go away." My hubby has no tolerance for direct marketing. The poor boy scout. How embarrassing - I tell him to come back to my house with the popcorn sign-up sheet and then he gets shooed away. He was kind of a timid kid, too.
I really miss my popcorn tin. I was looking forward to consuming a large amount of pre-popped, preserved corn. Plus the tins make convenient holders for car rags and and cassette tapes in the garage. If only my hubby knew that, he might not have been so quick to shoo away our popcorn vending scout.

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There is a happy ending to this embarrassing story. I discovered that the popcorn manufacturer that supplies scout troops has a popcorn sales website where you can support a troop of your choice when you order a large tin or a box of microwave popcorn. I'm ordering the Cheese Lovers Delight tin right now. Maybe you can order some too, and alleviate a bit of my guilt over missing my scout. Here's the website: http://www.orderpopcorn.com/

Crowing for Rooster Sauce

Today on the Kevyn Burger show, Kevyn said, "I put hot sauce on ice cream." Then she mentioned that she keeps a bottle of hot sauce at her desk. A woman after my own heart. I've been teased at work for keeping a bottle of the "Rooster Sauce", a special super-hot chili garlic sauce, in the fridge. At one of my previous employer's potlucks I brought vegetable curry in my crock pot. One of my Indian co-workers sampled a spoonful and said, "This tastes just like curry, but without the hot spice." I explained that I make a special Minnesota version of the curry, and then I handed him my bottle of Rooster Sauce. After trying the dish again with a good dose of yummy spiciness, he gave me the thumbs up. That was one of my proudest culinary moments.

Meat is No Longer Murder, Meat is Strategy

Usually I don't chew the fat on vegetarian issues too often. But many of you have noticed my devotion to bean burritos and cheese sandwiches. My favorite Sandwich Artist at the local Subway asks, "Veggie wrap?" before I even get to the head of the line. For this blog post, I'm coming out of the walk-in closet to say I just don't like hamburgers or steaks. I don't begrudge anyone else hamburgers. It seems like everybody loves them so much! If a meat eater is coming for dinner, I pick up those Black Angus patties at ALDI. I know there's a little pieces of a steer wrapped up in the box, but my desire to please my guests outweighs my squeamishness.
Despite my reticence to discuss my distaste for burgers and steaks, today I feel I must. I have a bone to pick with Allen Salkin, a dating advice columnist for the New York Times. Mr. Salkin's column today is entitled "Some Women have Stopped Being Chicken About Ordering Steak." Let me say Mr. Salkin, I've never been afraid of a steak. How could I be? The steer is already dead. It can't kick me now.
The gist of Mr. Salkin's column is that women can make a bit better impression on a date by eating red meat. He quotes a woman who says red meat sends a message that she's "unpretentious" and "not obsessed with weight." Do cheese sandwiches send a message that I'm pretentious? I wonder if when I was dating my husband, he thought my love of bean burritos indicated a weight obsession. Once he witnessed me chowing down on a bean burrito after the Nine Inch Nails concert, while I was covered in other people's spilled beer and sweat from the mosh pit. Yikes! I'm lucky he called me back after that. He was probably thinking, "I wonder why she didn't get the steak supreme burrito. She might be neurotic about her weight."
What makes me flat-out mad about this article is the quote from a lady who says ordering a salad makes a woman seem "wimpy, insipid and childish." Sometimes the most sexist statements, the ones that make blood boil, come straight out out of the mouth of another woman. Feminism is the crazy idea that women are humans too. That means we are big people that can choose our own meal at dinner, and shouldn't put up with anyone using a put-down like wimpy to describe us because of what we're chomping on. Men are humans too, and shouldn't have to hear put-downs for their food preferences either. I'm darn sick of those jokes about men and quiche.
Here's Mary's dating advice - my contradiction to Mr. Salkin's silly meaty ideas. When you're on a date, you're supposed to behave nice. That includes not making rude comments about the other person's food, whether they order steak, salad or frog legs. This goes for people that are partnered or married too. Be nice to your special someone and respect that they might like a different kind of food than you do. Dating is not about catching someone by eating a certain food. Mr. Salkin says, "Meat is no longer murder. Instead, meat is strategy." Using meat, or any other feigned interest to catch a dating pal is a flawed strategy. If you pretend to like something just to get a guy or gal, once you get them, you'll have to keep pretending to like that thing indefinitely. I could never pretend to like steak and I would never expect someone else to gag down bean burritos just for me. Honesty tempered with respect is the cornerstone of caring.

The World's Largest Lefse

Minnesota holds the record for the World's Largest Lefse, a 70-pound flatbread cooked in Starbuck, MN in 1983. The town of Starbuck commerorates the event with an annual Lefse Dagen (Lefse Days) festival. Imagine spending a day just celebrating lefse! My mouth is watering at the thought. I'd top my 70-pound lefse piece with lingonberries and rich, creamery butter. Yum!

Happy Turkey Day!

Happy Thanksgiving! I didn't make a Tofurky this year like I usually do. I ate a grilled cheese sandwich instead. On Sunday I'm throwing a Thanksgiving party for the family where I'm going to cook an actual bird for the meaty folks in attendance.
While surfing the net, I learned about these new heritage turkeys. They're more like a wild turkey and they live on a farm where they can run loose with their buddies. Check out the picture to the left of the heritage turkeys on Mary's turkey farm in Fresno. Mary says the turkeys are raised in a healthful and caring environment. Finally another Mary that loves turkeys as much as I do!
There are quite a few wild turkeys in Farmington, and there was a big tom living by my house a few years ago. Sadly, he got hit by a car at the intersection of 160th and Pilot Knob. The Farmington Independent printed an obituary for Tom Turkey. May he rest in peace.
I heard that President Bush pardoned two turkeys this week, so won't be served on the Thanksgiving table this year. How come the president pardons turkeys every year, but he can't seem to get around to pardoning Leonard Peltier? Amnesty International considers him a political prisoner. I guess there are some things you just don't know about how the inside of the administration works.

Blimpie's Adventure

I'm blogging from Blimpie's right now. They gave me free access to broadband along with my VegiMax sandwich. (They have a special soy sandwich for vegetarians. It's a yummy in my tummy!) I'm filling up for a long afternoon of checking out RVs and camping gear at the Outdoor Show. Next year might be the year I acquire my first RV. I've already started saving.

Perro is so excited that he's getting a job to help contribute to our RV savings account. He's been offered a position as a paw model for a doggie boots company. They offered him a free pair as his signing bonus (but I have to buy the other two boots.) He' so excited about the RV that he's been planning which blankets and leashes he'd like to bring with on our next adventure. He was sad that he had to stay home today (no dogs allowed in the Minneapolis Convention Center.) Well, I'm off the outdoor show!

A Trip to Mexico via the Basement

Now that the weather is turning cold, and the nights are never ending, my thoughts turn to Mexico. (I work in a windowless room, and it's already dark out by the time I leave.) I'm picturing iguanas lounging in the trees and munching huge pink flowers, and hermit crabs scurrying along the tide pools at the edge of the ocean. I love it when they grab food with their big claws and wave it around. It might be time for another trip to the Yucatan. I want to see the sea turtles again. They are so huge and graceful, swooping through the water, and they have big, sleepy dark eyes.



Once when I was in Mexico I even saw a jaguar at a national park. He looked like a huge version of Mystic, just stretching and lounging on an outcrop of rock above the gleaming mouth of a cenote. (A cenote is a natural deep well of clean water with limestone sides. I don't think we have them in Farmington.)



Tonight for dinner maybe I'll fry up some vegetable fajitas with salsa. I have a couple of cans of my favorite salsa down in the basement, Herdez. I'm nuts about Herdez. The cilantro and serrano peppers are what makes it taste great. It'll be like a vacation indoors. I'll just hang out with Whippy for a while after I eat. She's like having a little piece of Mexico down in the basement.

Breakfast from Another Continent

I'm at the hotel in Warwick, RI. The continental breakfast tastes like it was prepared on another continent and then shipped here on a slow moving boat. The last hotel in Bedford, Mass. (near Boston) had wonderful spicy tater tots for breakfast. I ate several plates full during our stay.



Today is the last full day here. We'll be spending it in Providence, RI, either at the zoo or the Federal Hill Neighborhood, an Italian district with lots of restaurants. Yum! I'll need the fortification of a sturdy lunch after that bagel I ate with the strange aftertaste. Perhaps it was a Zone bagel!

Nasty Snacks: The Food of the Stars

The latest Hollywood gossip:



"Gorgeous George Clooney kept his fab bod fit during filming of Confessions of a Dangerous Mind by following the diet popular among many stars, 'The Zone.' His meals were delivered to his dressing room daily. He was especially fond of The Zone Perfect Snack Chips in Nacho Cheese, Spicy Pizza, and Lemon Garlic."



He must be especially fond of eating particle board, as well. These nasty snacks have been sitting in the lab at work for the past week, sickening many of my co-workers whenever they catch a whiff.