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.'

Crisp Chicken Burritos

I used to work for a company called Taco Time.  Actually, I worked for two companies by that name, but one of them is relevant, here.

See, when I say "Taco Time," most of you are thinking of Taco Time International, Inc. (unless they've changed names again ... ). And I did work for them, for about six months.  I also spent nearly four years working for Accord Taco Time, Inc., which split from the other company in (IIRC) the mid-eighties.  I don't know all the details, nor do I care to. Both companies have similar menus with (for the most part) similar food.

The Taco Times I'll be referencing in this post are the Accord Taco Times, because they are in Western Washington (and the other Taco Time isn't).

What you need to know is this: After working for Taco Time for as long as I did, I still crave the food. Especially certain menu items.  Most notably the Crisp Chicken Burrito. Which may or may not be available at the other Taco Time (which is why the long prelude - I didn't want to get your hopes up if you live outside of Western Washington).

The burrito itself is pretty simple: You take some of Taco Time's chicken (which is good all by itself), mix it with cream cheese, some green chilis, and a couple of spices.  Then wrap it in a flour tortilla and deep-fry it.

For me, it's paradise in a paper sleeve.

And there's a Taco Time about three blocks from my office.

I eat there fairly regularly, and grabbed an extra burrito. They're small enough that I figured if Dasha didn't like it, it'd be more for me.

As it turns out, she liked it a great deal.

"Mmmm!  This is really good!"

A few days later, we were talking about food and she told me that she'd taken her husband to Taco Time. For the Crisp Chicken Burritos. "They were really tasty, and reminded me of something we had in Moldova."

Verdict: Success. These may even be a bigger success than the Ding Dongs ...

Twinkies and Ding Dongs

7-Eleven, at times, is too close. See, I could stand to lose some weight. And it's difficult with so much temptation so close to the office.

As you may have noticed, I have a bit of a sweet tooth.  Half-way out the door one morning, I stuck my head back in and asked, "Dasha, have you ever had a Twinkie?"

"What's that?"

"What about a Ding Dong?"

"I don't know what you are talking about!"

Twinkies, for those two or three of you who don't know, are sponge cake stuffed with frosting.  They're very sweet, and have a reputation for being more chemical than food. People used to regularly joke that the shelf life of a Twinkie was long enough that the cockroaches who succeeded mankind as rulers of the planet would have plenty of them to dine upon.  They are invariably soft and moist and dangerously tasty.

Ding Dongs are chocolate-covered chocolate cupcakes which are filled with the same filling as Twinkies.

Neither one is particularly healthy.

That cinched it for me: This week, Dasha would try both of them.  Since they're sold in convenient 2-packs, that meant one of each for me as well.

When I returned with the bounty, I suggested that she try the Twinkie first - if you're going to dislike one of them, it's usually the Twinkie.  The Ding Dong is chocolate, and only a few weirdos (including my brother) dislike chocolate.

The Twinkie met with a lukewarm response.  "What is this?"  When she tasted it, "This would be better if it had fruit inside or something. It's too sweet. Maybe if it had some chocolate?"

For a short time, I vaguely remember that Hostess made fruit-filled Twinkies.  They were good. Or, more accurately, better than the plain Twinkies.

She gave me the second Twinkie that was in the pack.

The Ding Dongs went over much better: "That's more like it." and "Mmm.  This one's actually good." The Ding Dong disappeared pretty quickly - I didn't know she could move that fast!

After this reaction, I didn't expect to have the second one for myself, but she said to me, "Are you trying to make me fat?" And then forced it on me. So I had to eat it.

I had no choice.

So the final verdicts:

Twinkie: FAIL
Ding Dong: WIN. So very much win. I think it's the biggest win thus far ...

Orange Julius

A mainstay in American shopping malls is Orange Julius. Their signature drink includes both orange juice and ice cream and a number of other ingredients - if you poke around online, you can find dozens of recipes for it, all with varying degrees of accuracy.

We learned that she hadn't tried these one day when J was heading to the mall and asked if we wanted anything. I was my usual decisive self.

"Pretzels! Or Teriyaki Chicken! Or a Sandwich! Or ... No ... no ... Orange Julius! I want an Orange Julius!" Yes, those exclamation points are warranted. I was a bit wired and unusually excitable that day.

"What's an Orange Julius?"

Many of these New Things are triggered for us when Dasha asks us, "What is a ... ?" And we know we have a good one when J and I both lock up for a second in surprise.

This particular lockup also settled what I would be getting from the mall that afternoon.

"J," I said, "I think I'd like an Orange Julius today.  Given the warm weather, it sounds like just the thing!"

Half an hour later, there was a Julius on my desk, and one on Dasha's desk.

Dasha eyed it warily when was placed in front of her, and she took a cautious sip. Her expression then turned to that of someone who was expecting honey and had oatmeal instead.

"That's a really weird taste.  It's not bad, I just have to get used to it."

After another sip,  "I think I could get used to this."

A short time later, "This reminds me of something."

We discussed it for a bit - it apparently reminds her a bit of an orange Creamsicle, which I totally understand. They have very similar flavors.

Her final statement? "I wouldn't buy this on my own, but I would eat it again."

Make me think I should order a Strawberry or Straberry-Banana Julius for her ...

The Verdict: I'll call that a Marginal Win.

Morning Buns

Starbucks has this thing they call a Morning Bun. It's one of my favorite breakfast components. I first discovered it in Indianapolis at GenCon a few years ago.  It's like a non-glazed cinnamon roll made with croissant dough.  It's on the sweet end of the spectrum without being cloyingly sweet like a lot of cinnamon rolls are. The lack of frosting certainly helps with that.

They're light, they're flaky, and they have enough actual food content to keep me going for several hours - it's not just a sugar rush.

"What is that?"

I explained that it's somewhere between a cinnamon roll and a croissant.  "You've had cinnamon rolls, haven't you?"

"Yes, but they're different."  There are, of course, dozens and dozens and dozens of varieties of cinnamon roll, depending on where in the world you are.

"Would you like to try a piece of mine?"

"Er ... I don't know.  It looks kind of weird."  So I pulled a piece off for her.  She sniffed at it, gave it kind of an odd look, and then tasted. Her face immediatley contorted.  She didn't spit it out, but she evidently didn't like it that much.

All of this reminds me: I need to add American-style Cinnamon Rolls to the list. Maybe I'll hit a Cinnabon.

Verdict: Fail. Not an EPIC fail, but a fail nonetheless.