Sandwich ingredients – can’t we all just get along?

Posted: January 31, 2024 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Say you’re a slice of cheese, with all the crucial memories and opinions that a slice of cheese would have.

You want, specifics? Fine you’re brie.

Actually, no – you’re cheddar. Being cheddar is important for this.

It matters to me.

Anyway, you’re a slice of opinionated (cheddar) cheese – and someone places a slice of ham on top of you.

Opinionated ham.

Ham with a mother.

Ham with hopes (not dreams though – it’s just ham).

And that slice of ham is laying on top of you face to cheesy face – how would you feel?

Perhaps you’d nod politely at one another, like businessman bumping into each other on a crowded train, but then again, that doesn’t often happen when they’re both horizontal.

It’d be really neat if you’d both simply get along. No need to shove.

But that’s not all – next is the disappointment that comes from the comfortable slice of bread you yourself had already been placed on.

You’d been enjoying it being as soft and convenient as it was to relax upon, though weirdly, it was particularly buttery. As buttery as anything you can think of as being buttery.

Not many things are buttery. In fact, its likely that most things that are buttery, aside from bread, are not intended to be buttery.

Buttery.

Albeit buttery, it was a pleasant place to find yourself as a slice of cheese, even when a slice of ham is pressed against you.

Then, you see over the slice of ham’s………………. shoulder (?)……a second slice of bread descending its way towards you.

Now I can’t pretend to have ever heard cheese before. But if I were then, like you are now – a piece of cheese about to be imprisoned within the kind of butteriness that you’d honestly begun to trust – I think I’d have a lot to say. And even more to scream.

Meanwhile, the slice of ham is still squished up against you, face-to-face, unable to move because it’s inanimate (AKA “thoroughly well-cooked”) and is desperately asking what you’re freaking out about, but can sense the darkness looming up from behind it.

As I said, I’ve never heard cheese, and I’ve never heard the inside of a sandwich either, but I’ll bet its muffled.

Now I don’t want to be grim here. There’s no pain in the life of this cheese (can’t guarantee same for the ham) so have no fear of me describing the agony of teeth coming together through you – some cheddar cheese.

But, the idea of being chewed cheese basically just occurred to me and I wanted to share consideration for the sensation with you.

My favourite part was the suggestion of the cheese and ham nodding politely at each other. Its nice to get along.

There might be a metaphor in there somewhere, sandwich ingredients getting along and so on.

But I’ll leave that to you to be interested in, I’m just curious about being a piece of cheese.

Sam

Bread. Where did the inspiration come from?

Posted: January 8, 2024 | Author: | Filed under: Brief...therefore witty. | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Because I don’t have it.

The inspiration for bread is beyond me. Especially the ‘yeast‘ bit.

I have no idea what yeast is to be honest with you. And should I ever find myself holding a lump of it in my hand and was told to get some of the local crops to make bread, I’d seriously have to consider leaning on magic to get the job done.

And that’s with magic being real, which it isn’t, but then again I suspect yeast might not be either.

Take some wheat, squash it in a dry manner – don’t let it get wet in the squashing process.

Find some yeast, if you believe in such things, and just add it. I’m not sure how, maybe throw it at the dry squashed wheat. How thick a crust you get depends on how hard you throw it.

And where to find said yeast?

I’d imagine a cave, or the underside of a mighty boulder, or behind a waterfall at the mermaid lagoon – what does it matter? It doesn’t exist anyway.

When hunting the mythical ‘yeast beast’, search the forgotten realms of some dark bakery, where it continues to both give decent, hard-working folk infections, whilst simultaneously remaining imaginary.

Back to whatever ‘baking’ is:

It’s possible you then contribute an egg to the proceedings, but that might result in a cake and cakes are simply ridiculous – look at them. They have cherries on top.

Heat, the hot stuff. Put it in the mixture. On and around too.

With that done, it’s just a matter of time.

Time to wonder what the hell you were playing at, throwing yeast at things and hoping there’d be a positive outcome because you made it hotter.

What the hell were the first people who actually made bread trying to do? From whence did their inspiration come?

From whence?!

There’s only one possible explanation for bread.

And I do believe it’s the creativity of idiocy, curious to see what happens when you do something to something and see if something happens.

In this case, it was bread. But what was the first baker trying to achieve? Food?

Because and no point in the bread making process does it look like food.

It looks like matter with no future, regardless of if it gets hot or not.

What could they see that I can’t?

Did they have any idea it would become the basis of poetic metaphors for religious and socio-political economic movements, or the far more serious daily status is holds for the French?

Probably. Most of my actions are based on how important the outcomes will be for the French. Such as this blog, which I’d presume they’d refer to as “hors-de-propos” – the opposite of bread.

Sam