I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes. I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over. I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong. And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions. I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely. It's what we do.
Saturday, 5 December 2009
"Canned", and "Bread"
I recently read an article which quoted someone as describing himself as "The best thing since canned bread".
But of course, the concept nagged at me and I now know that canned bread is a reality. Indeed, if you come from Maine, or from Japan, you're probably bemused by the fact that I'm bemused. As if I were wondering about canned beans, for instance.
Let it be duly recorded that prior to today, I had never heard of canned bread, nor did I ever ponder the possibility.
I understand that canned bread sells rather well, and that New Englanders feel lost without it, so it is exported to expatriates across the globe. It features regularly in SpongeBob cartoons. Survivalists stock it in their bunkers.
I shall not be purchasing any. I like my bread fresh, aromatic, warm inside, and crunchy on the outside. mmmm.
I rather think cylindrical bread in a can might not tick the boxes there. However, if you've ever had canned bread, do tell if it's as disgusting and rubbery as it sounds.
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