Santa Claus is a Red Man
I am SO SORRY, my dear devoted readers, that I have not posted a new entry in over two weeks. Between the holidays and tending to the needs of my playwriting students, I have not had a moment to call my own.
But with all the moments I have, I must sing the praises of my dear Baby Balsamic. I am raising her with the right values and a deep love of condiments. She sees me snacking on pickled garlic and she wants some pickled garlic. She wants me to feed her Norman Bishop G*D mustard by the spoonful. She eats salads with liberal amounts of balsamic vinaigrette (homemade by me, of course. Do you think I would give my daughter BOTTLED salad dressing? Do you think I want her taken away from me?)
And she's adventurous. Last week, Baby Balsamic and I were out to dinner with Big Daddy condiment at Red Robin. A place not known for its condiments, but it had a decent lime mayonnaise that accompanied a chicken dish (it needed more lime, honestly, but I've had worse). And they had a bottle of special "Red Robin spice" on each table. Curious, I perused the ingredient list. It's basically one of those "salt substitutes" with paprika, celery salt, and other granules of flavor. But now that I think about it, it did have salt in it, so it wasn't really a salt substitute and more of a kitschy token to their version of fine dining. I tipped some into my hand, and Baby Balsamic, ever on it, my little condiment-loving Robin to my saucy Batman, insisted on her own little taste. She tentatively licked it, then announced it was "spicy." The food wasn't great, but they gave Baby Balsamic a balloon so she declared it a "great rest-rant."
And now, for the title of this post, which has nothing to do with condiments, but what is a blog without occasionally submitting the reader to stories of adorable children. And I know, they're usually stupid, but this is a good man.
While decorating our tree last night, I was playing the John Waters Christmas Album which has a great song on it called "Santa Claus is a Black Man." I was singing the chorus and Baby Balsamic looked up at me and said, indignantly, "Santa Claus is a RED man!"
But hopefully, not a Red Robin man.
Condiment Grrl
But with all the moments I have, I must sing the praises of my dear Baby Balsamic. I am raising her with the right values and a deep love of condiments. She sees me snacking on pickled garlic and she wants some pickled garlic. She wants me to feed her Norman Bishop G*D mustard by the spoonful. She eats salads with liberal amounts of balsamic vinaigrette (homemade by me, of course. Do you think I would give my daughter BOTTLED salad dressing? Do you think I want her taken away from me?)
And she's adventurous. Last week, Baby Balsamic and I were out to dinner with Big Daddy condiment at Red Robin. A place not known for its condiments, but it had a decent lime mayonnaise that accompanied a chicken dish (it needed more lime, honestly, but I've had worse). And they had a bottle of special "Red Robin spice" on each table. Curious, I perused the ingredient list. It's basically one of those "salt substitutes" with paprika, celery salt, and other granules of flavor. But now that I think about it, it did have salt in it, so it wasn't really a salt substitute and more of a kitschy token to their version of fine dining. I tipped some into my hand, and Baby Balsamic, ever on it, my little condiment-loving Robin to my saucy Batman, insisted on her own little taste. She tentatively licked it, then announced it was "spicy." The food wasn't great, but they gave Baby Balsamic a balloon so she declared it a "great rest-rant."
And now, for the title of this post, which has nothing to do with condiments, but what is a blog without occasionally submitting the reader to stories of adorable children. And I know, they're usually stupid, but this is a good man.
While decorating our tree last night, I was playing the John Waters Christmas Album which has a great song on it called "Santa Claus is a Black Man." I was singing the chorus and Baby Balsamic looked up at me and said, indignantly, "Santa Claus is a RED man!"
But hopefully, not a Red Robin man.
Condiment Grrl
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