Wednesday, August 10, 2005
One for the Ladies: Crunchy and Buggy - GORPTASTIC DELITE
Here’s a new bit of srivel (scrawl + drivel) that I dedicate with all due respect and then some to two women of valor. pea, my first true imaginary friend and among my best friends of any ilk, is on her way out of blogsylvania; mimi has offered enthusiastic and cheerful support to my most recent (and ongoing) adventure in parenthood. Ladies, this one’s for you. With all due respect.
The word “gorp” sounds like a joke to me. It might go back to its ironic late-midcentury roots: the way it mimics the ludicrous non-word “grok,” the goofball pinecones-n-wafflestompers lifestyle it evokes.... something in “gorp” just can’t be taken seriously. This, I consider a good thing in a word. Serious words don’t know how to have fun, and I’m all about having the fun, you know. Plus, gorp can be tasty. That’s the kind of dual-action gorpy goodness to which I, myself, aspire.
This might be (but probably isn’t) why my dear friend pea thought of me when she found the roach cup. On a recent trip to her motherland in the south continent, she pulled a few knicknacks together for me, and one was a little ceramic mug. The outside is crudely painted witha crude pastoral scene evoking the crude pastures of a, perhaps, cruder place and time. Inside the mug, in the center of the base, is firmly affixed a small, vaguely football-shaped lozenge of clay, glazed brown, with a smaller tan dollop at one end; around it have been painted eight angled or curving little lines. Put all together and viewed fleetingly, the whole thing looks rather like a goddamn cockaroach sitting in the bottom of the mug. It’s a roach mug, get it? A bug cup. Good stuff, there. Once again, thanks, pea. For real.
So - gorp?, you persist in wondering. Right, back to the gorp. I like my gorp simple and I don’t really do the store-bought gorp thing too much. I’m a hands-on gorper - a “gorp-it-yourself” kind of guy; I like having a bit more gorp control, a bit more of a say over what goes into the gorpification process. Peanuts? M&Ms? Banana chips? Screw that noise. I like to pick up a little granola of my own choosing, my own favorite raisins, and be done with it. The raisins are big and sweet and chewy and the granola is crunchy and refreshing, lightly sweetened with granny smith apples. Chocolate-free, bereft of tropical fruits, and nutless - I repeat, utterly nutless. That’s what I like in a sack of the crunchy stuff. I keep it clean, man - I keep it simple. No dissonant textures or flavors. Just a pure gorpish rush, man. Gorptastic.
So: I was packing my lunch for work, as I usually do, and I capped it off with a baggie of granola mixed with those enormous raisins in the perfect ratio of about 2 to 1. But by the time I got the damn thing to my cube and opened the sack for le dejeuner I discovered, to my dismay, that I’d experienced the humiliation of gorp separation. All the raisins had floated to the top and the granola was huddled down at the bottom of the bag like a bunch of sorry puds. It was a travesty, man. It was tragic.
What I needed was a means by which to restore a proper gorpic distribution. I sensed that this would require some sort of handy small container - something nice but that didn’t take itself too seriously. The baccarat snifters were definitely not under consideration; neither was the ziplok baggie in which the gorp had been originally incorporated (or “ingorporated").
And then I realized that the proper tool was right at hand: the buggy mug. I poured about half my granola and raisins into the mug and it was instantaneously perfectly mixed and ready for my discriminating delectation. I could just hold it by the handle and tip exquisite little mouthfuls of properly mixed gorp into my yawning gorphole, avoiding also the gorpic indignity of eating out of the palm of my own hand (or that of someone else).
Plus, as I reached the bottom of the mug, I amused myself by guessing which raisin was really the ceramic roach. Gorptime has never been so much fun. I can’t wait to feed bugmug raisingorp to a visitor, if ever I have one. Consider yourself warned.
and finally, for those who have specifically asked, I am specifically pleased to offer you these two images of an adorable baby. Once again, you’ve been warned.
