Follow-Up #1: Slurpees

A few months back, I bought a Slurpee for Dasha, and it was too sweet. A week or two ago, I went back to 7-Eleven again.

Damn its convenient closeness!

This time, I bought for her a Coke Slurpee.

And, you know, one for myself. Because, as long as I'm there ...

"What is this?"

"It's another Slurpee. I think you'll like this one better."

A tentative sip, with that fear-filled expression I've come to expect when inflicting new things on Dasha.  "You're right!  I do like it! This is very good."

I'm starting to learn Dasha's preferences in terms of sweetness. I think that - if I don't run out of things to introduce to her - I'll have more Wins as time goes by.

She has, by the way, purchased several Slurpees since. All Coke.

Root Beer and Root Beer Floats

I know I focus a lot on food, here.  A large part of this is because I need to be able to demonstrate these American things here at work - and there aren't a lot of non-Food things I can easily bring in to work that she hasn't already experienced.

A few weeks back, I had mentioned that if it kept getting this warm, I would have to bring in Root Beer Floats.

I've been conditioned over the last few months - every time I mention something that is an American Institution, I glance at Dasha - just to see if she knows what it is we're talking about. And there aren't many things as American as Root Beer. Well, depending on whose version of the history you listen to.

My favorite root beer is Bulldog Root Beer, but it's too creamy to be good in a float - floats require a slightly less smooth root beer.

The two best root beers for floats (in my opinion) are A&W and Henry Weinhard's. They're both root beers with a slight edge to their flavor that is perfectly mellowed by the vanilla ice cream. Both of them are not bad for the drinking, either (even if they're not my favorites).

The first thing I did was put a bottle of Weinhard's root beer in front of her.

"Am I allowed to drink this?" Dasha isn't 21, yet. And Weinhard's comes in a dark brown bottle that looks like a beer bottle. And, of course, the word "Beer" appears prominently on the label.

"It's not alcoholic," I told her.  In fact, alcoholic root beers are hard to find these days.

I cracked it open for her. She then sniffed at the bottle. "We have a medicine that smells exactly like this." A quick swig. A quick "DO NOT WANT" expression.

Then: "Does it have cinnamon in it?"

Most Root Beer these days derive the bulk of their flavor from the Sasparilla plant. In fact, the biggest difference between the various brands (so far as I can tell) is the type and ratio of vanilla that they add to the mix.

This, of course, is before you add the ice cream.

Now, I've seen people make floats with a huge variety of ice creams. It's the easiest part of the whole thing.  For Dasha's introduction to floats, I just grabbed the cheapest bucket of ice cream I could find. Seriously. As long as you're using vanilla ice cream (not French Vanilla, not Vanilla Bean - just plain old boring Vanilla Ice Cream), you're golden. Seriously.

After a skeptical sip: "It's still too strong and smelly, but with ice cream, it's just perfect."

"It's really good. Very good, actually."

At the end of the day, I sent her home with some root beer so she could introduce her husband to the delight of the float.

Verdict: Win on the floats, Fail on the root beer itself.

Ghostbusters, Star Wars, Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark

Here at work, we have a TV. And a DVD player.

This means that we often bring in films we like and watch those.  Occasionally, I have to suffer through a cheesy romantic comedy. Or a stupid comedy.

One day, however, we had three films that were a huge part of my growing up that Dasha had never even heard of. All three of these are (in part) pulp-descended. They're definitely part of any geek's outlook these days.

Here are her comments on each:

Ghostbusters:
"It's not a scary movie, is it? I don't like scary movies!"

"This is a funny movie."

"It's very entertaining."

Star Wars (and by Star Wars, I mean Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope - the original theatrical release):
"It's not the best film ever, but it is interesting."

She looked pretty bored throughout, though.

Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark:
"I'm not sure I understand what is happening. Why do they talk so much?"  A fair question, to be perfectly  honest. As pulpy as the film is, it really does have a bit too much dialogue.

"This part is very exciting." It was the chase through the market.

"Why did they kill the monkey? He was cute!"

Verdict:  A very mixed bag.

Kool-Aid

Where I work, we occasionally talk about "drinking the Kool-Aid."  I suspect it's a common discussion at various workplaces.

Most workplaces, however, don't have a teammate who has never even heard of Kool-Aid.

For those two or three of you who don't know what it is, let me quote Wikipedia:

Kool-Aid is a brand of flavored drink mix owned by the Kraft Foods Company.

Hrm.  That doesn't help much, does it?

It's a small packet of powder. You take two quarts of water, one cup of sugar, and this flavoring package. Mix it all together and drink. Or chill first. Either way, it's good stuff. Depending on the flavor.

It's marginally better for you than soda, and it's a lot less expensive.

My favorite flavor is Black Cherry, so we're nearly always out of it at Chez Gamethyme. And the water here at the office is only marginally drinkable (we boil it before drinking it).

This means that introducing Dasha to Kool-Aid would require some special effort, because I'd have to bring water from elsewhere. I was early to work one morning, and so took a quick trip to the nearby (and dangerously convenient) 7-Eleven. One quart of water is about one liter (almost exactly one liter, in fact).

I'd previously brought in a 2-Quart pitcher and a cup of sugar. And a packet of Strawberry.  It's not as good as Black Cherry, but it's one of the drinkable Red flavors (and everyone needs to start with Red Kool-Aid).

Once Dasha arrived, I showed her the packet, and mixed everything up.  "You need," I told her, "To drink it out of an actual glass for the full effect."

Her first comment: "I don't think I like this."

But she kept trying. "It's not soda. I don't know what it is."

"It reminds me of ... you know the Jelly?"
"Jell-O?"
"Yes. With the water?"
"Yes."

All in all, she only had about half of a glass.

Result: Fail. I should probably have waited until I had Black Cherry on hand - Strawberry isn't a good starter flavor. I may have shot myself in the foot to test this, however.

Mallo Cups

Mallo Cups are one of those things I like. A lot.  More than I really should.

I have a huge weakness for marshmallows. And a good whipped marshmallow is a joy and a delight. Dip it in chocolate, and I'm half-way to Paradise.

A Mallo Cup is whipped marshmallow, topped with coconut, and then dipped in chocolate. They're pretty straightforward.

Mallo Cups are the only time I will willingly eat coconuts, as I dislike both their flavor and their texture.

They're also not readily available in the Seattle area.

My wife ordered some for me as a gift - she found them on Amazon.com.

I've spent the last four months or so working through the case I received, but I still have a small stash in my desk. And some more in the freezer at home.

I keep a lot of food in my desk - granola bars, an Alligator stick, Breakfast On The Go, some popcorn ... and, of course, some Mallo Cups.  I tell every new hire that, if they get hungry, they can help themselves to any food in the drawer. Except the Mallo Cups. Those are mine.

Dasha had a case of the munchies a few days ago, and nothing in the drawer looked both familiar and good to her, so I offered her a package of Mallo Cups.

Now, there are two Mallo Cups in every package - they're sized and shaped similarly to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. So I offered her a package.

"What is it?"

"It's chocolate-covered marshmallow."

"I like chocolate," she said.

After a bite: "This is good. It's really sweet."

I know she liked it because she ate the second one.

Verdict: Success.  She hasn't had any more than that first package, though, so I'm going to mark it as a 'moderate success.'