MC Hammer

And now the post I don't want to write.  Not because I didn't introduce Dasha to something new, because I did.

You see, Psy was on some big music awards show performing his hit Gagnam Style. At about three minutes into the performance, the lights go out, and the words "It's Hammer Time!" are heard.

And then it became a mashup of Gagnam Style and 2 Legit 2 Quit.

And I realized that Dasha probably had no idea who this guy was that was dancing with Psy.  So I asked her, "Do you know who that is?"

"No."

"What about the other guy?"

"Yes. Where does he even come from? His song is awful."

So she knew who Psy was, but she'd never heard of MC Hammer. Which - in all honesty - shouldn't surprise me all that much - she wasn't even born when U Can't Touch This was a huge megahit single.

Does that make anyone else feel old?

So I did what any hateful person would do: I visited YouTube for the video linked above.  Because no-one's suffering is complete until they have seen that video.

"Did you know," she asked me after a few seconds, "That those pants are back in style? And for women, too?"

A short time later, "He sings, too?  This is awful!"

So we are in complete agreement.

I wonder if she knows Vanilla Ice ...

Chili

It was slow at work, and the weather has finally started to change to cool. So I mentioned that I was thinking of getting some chili for lunch.

Dasha rewarded me with one of her famous blank looks.

"Have you never had chili before?"

"I've never even heard of it!"

So I sent her the Wikipedia link.  "Ohhh," she said, "It's Mexican!"

It's funny: I don't think of Chili as being a Mexican food, but it is. In fact, Chili is more authentically Mexican than most of the foods we get in Mexican restaurants. It pre-dates the Spanish conquest of the new world!

For those few of you who don't know what it is, it's basically a thick soup made with tomatoes, chili peppers (usually in the form of chili powder), and meat. Many recipes add other things to the mix, with beans being one of the more common additions.

It's also one of the last things I would have expected to be blogging about here, as it's so widespread in the US. It's widespread enough that I never thought to look into its origins before today. It was just one of those foods I had growing up that I liked.

I was a little concerned - Dasha has a reputation around here for being a bit of a spice wuss.  She can't handle really hot foods. Or even moderately hot foods.  So picking a good chili for her required thought.

I finally settled on Wendy's. Not only is it pretty good chili, it's cheap. And easy to reach during my lunch break. And, because it's designed for the mass market, it's not too hot.

I told her I was getting some before heading out to lunch.

"Are you sure? It's not too expensive is it?"

I reassured her that it was only $1.50 (because I was getting a small).

"Well ... okay.  If you're sure."

I ordered the chili with onions and cheese both - chili just isn't right unless it is properly topped.  She sniffed suspiciously when I set hers in front of her.  "Why do you always serve crackers with soup? Why don't you just use bread?"

And then a tentative taste.

"It's not bad!"

Another taste.

"I can eat this. Thank you, Eric."

It hit me, then - Chili to her is an exotic food.  It's like putting Poi or Borscht in front of me - they're flavors for which I have no regular and recurring frame of reference. I've had them - rarely - but not enough that I can tell good Poi from bad.

"This," she told me, "is very different for me. But I think I like it."

Even though she didn't say anything, I do think it was still a little too spicy for her, because she ate most of her crackers.

"I can see eating this in the winter," she said, "the heat, you know?"

Then she saw my burger - "Are those any good?"

She's never had a Wendy's burger.

I'll have to remedy that.

Haribo Gold Bears

I have documented several times that Dasha has a sweet tooth. One recent afternoon, I happened to wander into a grocery store on my lunch, and found one of my favorite snacks:

Haribo Gold Bears

Now, before I get started:  I am well aware of the fact that Haribo Gold Bears are a German thing, not strictly an American thing. Sorta.  See, the ones we get here in the US are different from the German ones. So I'm claiming them. It won't be the first non-American thing featured here.

The grocery store in question had them on sale - 4 bags for $5. Not a terrible deal - and I wasn't sure if Dasha had tried them before or not. I figured that, even if she didn't like them, I did. And I can eat two bags if I have to.

As I'm sure you can tell, it's getting harder and harder to find new things to introduce her to. Thus the long gaps between posts.

I'm sure there are a few of you who are reading this and wondering what the big deal about Haribo bears is - aren't all Gummy Bears the same?  And the answer is a resounding "no."

The two biggest manufacturers of gummy bears for the US market are Trolli and Haribo.  Trolli bears are softer and sweeter, but have less flavor.  Haribo bears are a bit more expensive, are firmer, and have quite a bit more flavor.

There are people who prefer the Trolli bears - I'm just not one of them. And if I'm introducing Dasha to something new, it'll be something I like. Or the best version of something I like (I don't dislike Trolli bears - I just prefer the Haribo ones).

When I walked into the office, I had a couple of things in my hands, and I dropped one bag on her desk as I walked by.

"Um ... what's this?"

"Gold bears.  They're a kind of candy. One I really like. Have you had them before?"

"No." A tentative poke at the candy (still in the bag). "Did you mean to put these on my desk?"

"Yes. I bought two bags, and thought I'd share.  If you don't like them, I'll eat them."

"Okay."  She gave it a skeptical look.  I don't think the texture appealed to her, even before opening the bag. "It'll have to wait until after my lunch, though."

"That's fine."  And I went back to work and she headed off to lunch, leaving the candy on her desk.

When she got back, I asked her if she'd tried them,  yet.

I try not to push - I really do.  Because my pushing can change her perception of whatever it is I'm trying to introduce her to, and not in a good way, either.  Of course, she trusts me, now, too.  She eats at Taco Time more days a week than I do, and we make Arby's runs a few times a month. And that's without mentioning the Blizzards ...

So she cut them open, and pulled one out.  "Are they the same flavor?"

I explained that each one was a different flavor. That some people can't tell the difference. And no, I don't know why Green is Strawberry here in the US. Because strawberry should be pink (or red).

So she grabbed one. I didn't see which one it was, but she put it in her mouth, and chewed. Slowly.  Her face kinda scrunched up, and she got that "do not want," look on her face (so I suspect it was lemon - those do that to me, too).  "You can have the rest of these," she said. "I like candy, but mostly chocolate. Not these."

Ah, well.

More for me.

The verdict:  Fail.  She wasn't even willing to try a second bear.

Philly Cheesesteak Sandwiches

Today, as I was getting ready to go to lunch, Dasha pushed some cash on me.

"Do you want me to get you something?"

"Yes."

"But I don't even know where I'm going, yet!"

"That's okay.  Just get me something to try."

With a golden opportunity like that, I had to take advantage.

"Have you ever had a Philly?"

She hadn't.  So I went to Jersey Mike's. See, I really like their sandwiches and eat there an average of once per week. Sometimes more, if I get a craving when I'm at work. And, as an added bonus, they don't put mushrooms on their Phillies.

Why do people do that?

So the Philly: It's one of the basic hot sandwiches. You take beef and slice it thin. Then grill it, melt cheese on it, and throw it on a Hoagie roll.  Most people then add peppers and onions while it's grilling.  Generally the peppers are not hot peppers - mostly green and red bell peppers.

Sometimes it's served with au jus, as if it were a French Dip.

At Jersey Mike's, they wrap it in foil for you, which makes it easy to get back to the office with a still-hot sandwich.

I presented the sandwich to Dasha, and received one of her dubious looks. "This looks ... interesting."  She didn't sound particularly enthusiastic, either.

A few bites, then, "That's the weirdest thing I ever tried."

"Is it a good weird or a bad weird?"

"It's good.  It's like a hot dog, but not. Nothing like it.  It's weird."  I have never heard a Philly compared to a hot dog before. Especially not a good Philly. But there it is.  I even did a double-take when typing this up.

"This thing is gooooood.  It's not like heavy, it's kinda light.  I don't know how to explain it."  She actually included all of those o's, too.  You could hear them.

Now, despite her sweet tooth, Dasha tends to eat like a bird - a bit here, a bit there, a lot of leftovers.  But she finished her sandwich off.  Completely.  And then it was interrogation time:

"Where did you get this?"

"Jersey Mike's."

"Where is Jersey Mike's?"

I gave her directions - and then made sure that she knew that Phillies were one of those things that you can get nearly anywhere that does decent sandwiches.

"What kind of cheese is this?"

"I think it's provolone, but it is sometimes made with Swiss or a mixture of the two."

"What kind of meat is this?"

"It's beef, sliced thin."

"I think my husband will like this."

The last time she told me that she thought her husband would like something was way back with the Dairy Queen Blizzards. So I have a hunch she'll have another Philly or two or three this weekend.

The verdict: Win.  She liked the sandwich. A lot.

Buffalo Wings

A few weeks ago, J brought in some hot wings that she'd purchased at a local BBQ joint. I have a huge weakness for a good wing.

Since Dasha sits between us, she is - by default - involved in any conversations that J and I have.

"What," she asked after a moment, "is a Buffalo wing?"

Cue my usual moment of disconnect while I process yet another gap in Dasha's cultural knowledge. Buffalo wings are one of those rare American Things that is genuinely American.

Log cabins? Swedish. Apple pie? English, Dutch, or Swedish, depending on who you ask.

Seriously. Do your homework.

Buffalo Wings? American.

It's a wing cut into two parts, and deep-fried until crispy. Once they're crisped up, they are slathered in a vinegar-based hot sauce. It's similar to a Carolina Barbecue Sauce, only spicier.

We're lucky here in the Seattle area, as we have an excellent wing-focused chain, Wing Dome.

I know that Dasha is a bit of a spice wuss - she doesn't much like spicy food. So I decided to take it easy on her and start her at a Two Alarm. It's stronger than catsup, but not by much. I usually go for a Four Alarm. My wife goes for a Five.

Like most places, Wing Dome serves their wings with celery and blue cheese dressing.

Dasha had apparently never had celery before, either. "What is this?"

"It's celery," I explained. It's astounding to me how many things celery appears in - I, personally, tend to see it mostly as an ingredient in a variety of soups. "It's healthy," I continued. "In the US, children often have this for a snack, usually with peanut butter."

Her nose wrinkled at this. "Ooookayyyy," she said, "I will try it."

"Wait until you have a wing," I told her. "The celery will help cut the heat if it's too spicy." I had trouble keeping a straight face at this - Two Alarm isn't too spicy for anyone, is it?

"Oh. What a good idea!" She proceeded to crunch into the (really tasty-smelling) wings. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up. "Mmmm! This is really good!"

I showed her how to dip the wings in the bleu cheese dressing - again, for the "heat."

"That is very tasty," she told me.

And then she tried the celery (dipped in the bleu cheese dressing). Apparently it was a fail. "This green stuff? Let me tell you I am not eating it because it is the nastiest grass I have ever tasted!"

When her meal was done, I asked her what she thought of it. "It was amazing, but my mouth is now like it's on fire."

The verdict: Win.

Peanut Brittle

I figured I'd get a few New Things in over the holidays - and I've been very lucky. I was able to introduce Dasha to a couple of things over the last few weeks.

As I'm sure you all know, I have a sweet tooth.  So does Dasha.

And the holidays are all about snacking.

One of my particular Christmas-season favorites is Peanut Brittle. I know it's available year-round, but I just don't think of it when it's not December. I blame all those rural Montana Christmases I spent as a kid.

Peanut brittle, for those two of you who don't know, is basically a hardened caramel with peanuts worked into it. For all that I don't like caramel, I do loves me some brittle.

I was actually shocked when Dasha told me she's never had it before. I keep forgetting that Peanuts are a New World food that didn't exist in Europe prior to the 15th Century.  It's one reason Dasha had such a lukewarm reaction to the chocolate peanut-butter pretzel bites - peanut butter just wasn't a standard part of her diet when she was young, and it's still partly unfamiliar to her. In fact, it wasn't popular in the US until the late 1800's - but that's beside the point.

I snapped a piece of the brittle off and offered it to her.  The first thing she did was sniff at it.  "It smells like butter." Butter is a common ingredient in peanut brittle, so this scent was not surprising. She then looked at me, and asked, "Is it like caramel?"

As discussed above, it is very much like caramel (in theory). I don't like caramel, but I love Brittle - so it's not necessarily identical (or even particularly close).

J then asked her what she thought.  "It's kinda good, but I don't know about my teeth.  They may cry afterwards."

By the time I made it back into the office after lunch, the brittle was gone.

Verdict: Win.  It won't topple the DQ Blizzard in terms of Biggest Win, but this is still a significant win.