I don't like fish at all, but this looks effing incredible!
food The Pescetarian
- Thread starter texas blues
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I don't like fish at all, but this looks effing incredible!
I love my hippy store aka Whole Foods.
Had a great one in the big dry ditch of Las Vegas that I even dragged Jay to back when.
Closest one here is down in Plano.
Plah!
Stumbled across this hilarious take on the hippy store.
I am hoping for Central Market. I love both CM and WF but whole foods doesn't have as much of the "normal stuff" mixed with the healthy stuff.
I just want a good option for descent looking veggies though so I will take either!
BTW, this article from Huffington Post cracked me up:
Whole Foods is like Vegas. You go there to feel good but you leave broke, disoriented, and with the newfound knowledge that you have a vaginal disease.
Unlike Vegas, Whole Foods' clientele are all about mindfulness and compassion... until they get to the parking lot. Then it's war. As I pull up this morning, I see a pregnant lady on the crosswalk holding a baby and groceries. This driver swerves around her and honks. As he speeds off I catch his bumper sticker which says 'NAMASTE'. Poor lady didn't even hear him approaching because he was driving a Prius. He crept up on her like a panther.
As the great, sliding glass doors part I am immediately smacked in the face by a wall of cool, moist air that smells of strawberries and orchids. I leave behind the concrete jungle and enter a cornucopia of organic bliss; the land of hemp milk and honey. Seriously, think about Heaven and then think about Whole Foods; they're basically the same.
The first thing I see is the great wall of kombucha -- 42 different kinds of rotten tea. Fun fact: the word kombucha is Japanese for 'I gizzed in your tea.' Anyone who's ever swallowed the glob of mucus at the end of the bottle knows exactly what I'm talking about. I believe this thing is called "The Mother" which makes it that much creepier.
2013-09-16-image.jpg
Next I see the gluten-free section filled with crackers and bread made from various wheat-substitutes such as cardboard and sawdust. I skip this isle because I'm not rich enough to have dietary restrictions. Ever notice that you don't meet poor people with special diet needs? A gluten intolerant house cleaner? A cab driver with Candida? Candida is what I call a rich, white person problem. You know you've really made it in this world when you get Candida. My personal theory is that Candida is something you get from too much hot yoga. All I'm saying is if I were a yeast, I would want to live in your yoga pants.
Next I approach the beauty aisle. There is a scary looking machine there that you put your face inside of and it tells you exactly how ugly you are. They calculate your wrinkles, sun spots, the size of your pores, etc. and compare it to other women your age. I think of myself attractive but as it turns out, I am 78 percent ugly, meaning less pretty than 78 percent of women in the world. On the popular 1-10 hotness scale used by males the world over, that makes me a 3 (if you round up, which I hope you will.) A glance at the extremely close-up picture they took of my face, in which I somehow have a glorious, blond porn mustache, tells me that 3 is about right. Especially because the left side of my face is apparently 20 percent more aged than the right. Fantastic. After contemplating ending it all here and now, I decide instead to buy their product. One bottle of delicious smelling, silky feeling creme that is maybe going to raise me from a 3 to a 4 for only $108 which is a pretty good deal when you think about it.
I grab a handful of peanut butter pretzels on my way out of this stupid aisle. I don't feel bad about pilfering these bites because of the umpteen times that I've overpaid at the salad bar and been tricked into buying $108 beauty creams. The pretzels are very fattening but I'm already in the seventieth percentile of ugly so who cares.
Next I come to the vitamin aisle which is a danger zone for any broke hypochondriac. Warning: Whole Foods keeps their best people in this section. Although you think she's a homeless person at first, that vitamin clerk is an ex-pharmaceuticals sales rep. Today she talks me into buying estrogen for my mystery mustache and Women's Acidophilus because apparently I DO have Candida after all.
I move on to the next isle and ask the nearest Whole Foods clerk for help. He's wearing a visor inside and as if that weren't ******y enough, it has one word on it in all caps. Yup, NAMASTE. I ask him where I can find whole wheat bread. He chuckles at me "Oh, we keep the poison in aisle 7." Based solely on the attitudes of people sporting namaste paraphernalia today, I'd think it was Sanskrit for "go **** yourself."
I pass the table where the guy invites me to join a group cleanse he's leading. For $179.99 I can not-eat not-alone... not-gonna-happen. They're doing the cleanse where you consume nothing but lemon juice, cayenne pepper and fiber pills for 10 days, what's that one called again? Oh, yeah...anorexia. I went on a cleanse once; it was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, I detoxified, I purified, I lost weight. On the other hand, I fell asleep on the highway, fantasized about eating a pigeon, and crapped my pants. I think I'll stick with the whole eating thing.
I grab a couple of loaves of poison, and head to checkout. The fact that I'm at Whole Foods on a Sunday finally sinks in when I join the end of the line...halfway down the dog food aisle. I suddenly realize that I'm dying to get out of this store. Maybe it's the lonely feeling of being a carnivore in a sea of vegans, or the newfound knowledge that some people's dogs eat better than I do, but mostly I think it's the fact that Yani has been playing literally this entire time. Like sensory deprivation, listening to Yani seems harmless at first, enjoyable even. But two hours in, you'll chew your own ear off to make it stop.
A thousand minutes later, I get to the cashier. She is 95 percent beautiful. "Have you brought your reusable bags?" ****. No, they are at home with their 2 dozen once-used friends. She rings up my meat, alcohol, gluten and a wrapper from the chocolate bar I ate in line, with thinly veiled alarm. She scans my ladies acidophilus, gives me a pitying frown and whispers, "Ya know, if you wanna get rid of your Candida, you should stop feeding it." She rings me up for $313. I resist the urge to unwrap and swallow whole another $6 truffle in protest. Barely. Instead, I reach for my wallet, flash her a quiet smile and say, "Namaste."
Last edited by quickplace1; 09-17-2013 at 07:49 PM.
Had a great one in the big dry ditch of Las Vegas that I even dragged Jay to back when.
Closest one here is down in Plano.
Plah!
Stumbled across this hilarious take on the hippy store.
I am hoping for Central Market. I love both CM and WF but whole foods doesn't have as much of the "normal stuff" mixed with the healthy stuff.
BTW, this article from Huffington Post cracked me up:
Whole Foods is like Vegas. You go there to feel good but you leave broke, disoriented, and with the newfound knowledge that you have a vaginal disease.
Unlike Vegas, Whole Foods' clientele are all about mindfulness and compassion... until they get to the parking lot. Then it's war. As I pull up this morning, I see a pregnant lady on the crosswalk holding a baby and groceries. This driver swerves around her and honks. As he speeds off I catch his bumper sticker which says 'NAMASTE'. Poor lady didn't even hear him approaching because he was driving a Prius. He crept up on her like a panther.
As the great, sliding glass doors part I am immediately smacked in the face by a wall of cool, moist air that smells of strawberries and orchids. I leave behind the concrete jungle and enter a cornucopia of organic bliss; the land of hemp milk and honey. Seriously, think about Heaven and then think about Whole Foods; they're basically the same.
The first thing I see is the great wall of kombucha -- 42 different kinds of rotten tea. Fun fact: the word kombucha is Japanese for 'I gizzed in your tea.' Anyone who's ever swallowed the glob of mucus at the end of the bottle knows exactly what I'm talking about. I believe this thing is called "The Mother" which makes it that much creepier.
2013-09-16-image.jpg
Next I see the gluten-free section filled with crackers and bread made from various wheat-substitutes such as cardboard and sawdust. I skip this isle because I'm not rich enough to have dietary restrictions. Ever notice that you don't meet poor people with special diet needs? A gluten intolerant house cleaner? A cab driver with Candida? Candida is what I call a rich, white person problem. You know you've really made it in this world when you get Candida. My personal theory is that Candida is something you get from too much hot yoga. All I'm saying is if I were a yeast, I would want to live in your yoga pants.
Next I approach the beauty aisle. There is a scary looking machine there that you put your face inside of and it tells you exactly how ugly you are. They calculate your wrinkles, sun spots, the size of your pores, etc. and compare it to other women your age. I think of myself attractive but as it turns out, I am 78 percent ugly, meaning less pretty than 78 percent of women in the world. On the popular 1-10 hotness scale used by males the world over, that makes me a 3 (if you round up, which I hope you will.) A glance at the extremely close-up picture they took of my face, in which I somehow have a glorious, blond porn mustache, tells me that 3 is about right. Especially because the left side of my face is apparently 20 percent more aged than the right. Fantastic. After contemplating ending it all here and now, I decide instead to buy their product. One bottle of delicious smelling, silky feeling creme that is maybe going to raise me from a 3 to a 4 for only $108 which is a pretty good deal when you think about it.
I grab a handful of peanut butter pretzels on my way out of this stupid aisle. I don't feel bad about pilfering these bites because of the umpteen times that I've overpaid at the salad bar and been tricked into buying $108 beauty creams. The pretzels are very fattening but I'm already in the seventieth percentile of ugly so who cares.
Next I come to the vitamin aisle which is a danger zone for any broke hypochondriac. Warning: Whole Foods keeps their best people in this section. Although you think she's a homeless person at first, that vitamin clerk is an ex-pharmaceuticals sales rep. Today she talks me into buying estrogen for my mystery mustache and Women's Acidophilus because apparently I DO have Candida after all.
I move on to the next isle and ask the nearest Whole Foods clerk for help. He's wearing a visor inside and as if that weren't ******y enough, it has one word on it in all caps. Yup, NAMASTE. I ask him where I can find whole wheat bread. He chuckles at me "Oh, we keep the poison in aisle 7." Based solely on the attitudes of people sporting namaste paraphernalia today, I'd think it was Sanskrit for "go **** yourself."
I pass the table where the guy invites me to join a group cleanse he's leading. For $179.99 I can not-eat not-alone... not-gonna-happen. They're doing the cleanse where you consume nothing but lemon juice, cayenne pepper and fiber pills for 10 days, what's that one called again? Oh, yeah...anorexia. I went on a cleanse once; it was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, I detoxified, I purified, I lost weight. On the other hand, I fell asleep on the highway, fantasized about eating a pigeon, and crapped my pants. I think I'll stick with the whole eating thing.
I grab a couple of loaves of poison, and head to checkout. The fact that I'm at Whole Foods on a Sunday finally sinks in when I join the end of the line...halfway down the dog food aisle. I suddenly realize that I'm dying to get out of this store. Maybe it's the lonely feeling of being a carnivore in a sea of vegans, or the newfound knowledge that some people's dogs eat better than I do, but mostly I think it's the fact that Yani has been playing literally this entire time. Like sensory deprivation, listening to Yani seems harmless at first, enjoyable even. But two hours in, you'll chew your own ear off to make it stop.
A thousand minutes later, I get to the cashier. She is 95 percent beautiful. "Have you brought your reusable bags?" ****. No, they are at home with their 2 dozen once-used friends. She rings up my meat, alcohol, gluten and a wrapper from the chocolate bar I ate in line, with thinly veiled alarm. She scans my ladies acidophilus, gives me a pitying frown and whispers, "Ya know, if you wanna get rid of your Candida, you should stop feeding it." She rings me up for $313. I resist the urge to unwrap and swallow whole another $6 truffle in protest. Barely. Instead, I reach for my wallet, flash her a quiet smile and say, "Namaste."
Last edited by quickplace1; 09-17-2013 at 07:49 PM.
mrs. blues doesn't call Whole Foods "the hippy store" like I do.
She calls it Whole Paycheck.
What's really weird is she's a hardcore meat, potato's and fast food junkie.
If its bad for you, she likes it.
But she still likes going in that joint.
And yeah, like that gal in the article....to shove $6 chocolate truffles in her mout'.
She calls it Whole Paycheck.
What's really weird is she's a hardcore meat, potato's and fast food junkie.
If its bad for you, she likes it.
But she still likes going in that joint.
And yeah, like that gal in the article....to shove $6 chocolate truffles in her mout'.
Here we go y'all.
Sort of "animal style" baked tato.
Olive oil rubbed russet baked for 2 hours @350f.
Split that baby open and drizzled in olive oil and hit it Huy Fong chile garlic and covered with scheeze.
Topped it with cramelized onions garlic, more chile sauce, sour cream and cilantro.
Have mercy.
The potato was huge and way more food than I could eat but I couldn't stop shoveling this stuff in y'all!
I ate it with a big fat spoon for maximum pieholing!
I didn't really use all that much cheese and purposely limited the amount of sour cream so all n' all it was pretty dang healthy eats.
Potato's are good food really just depending how you prepare them and what you eat with them.
And the chile garlic on em' is just damn goodern' hell awesome!
Sort of "animal style" baked tato.
Olive oil rubbed russet baked for 2 hours @350f.
Split that baby open and drizzled in olive oil and hit it Huy Fong chile garlic and covered with scheeze.
Topped it with cramelized onions garlic, more chile sauce, sour cream and cilantro.
Have mercy.
The potato was huge and way more food than I could eat but I couldn't stop shoveling this stuff in y'all!
I ate it with a big fat spoon for maximum pieholing!
I didn't really use all that much cheese and purposely limited the amount of sour cream so all n' all it was pretty dang healthy eats.
Potato's are good food really just depending how you prepare them and what you eat with them.
And the chile garlic on em' is just damn goodern' hell awesome!
Hey y'all.
Time to get back to hippy food.
Bay shrimps, garlic, onion, fresno chile, peas, carrots, olive oil, kosher salt, and a splooge of chile garlic sauce.
Peas n' carrots on a taco?
Yup.
It works.
This totally rocks with generous squeezin' n' pleazin's of fresh lime.
I might have to make these again tonight but with heaps more chile garlic splooge.
Time to get back to hippy food.
Bay shrimps, garlic, onion, fresno chile, peas, carrots, olive oil, kosher salt, and a splooge of chile garlic sauce.
Peas n' carrots on a taco?
Yup.
It works.
This totally rocks with generous squeezin' n' pleazin's of fresh lime.
I might have to make these again tonight but with heaps more chile garlic splooge.
JayT said:
I reckon he does.
Chico is often lewd and suggestive.
He's the one that suggested it.
NIce.
Watchoo' gon' do wit dat fish?
Grill or bake?
I made some mayo/mustard/horseradish sauce for my last fish cakes that was absolutely incredible.
Watchoo' gon' do wit dat fish?
Grill or bake?
I made some mayo/mustard/horseradish sauce for my last fish cakes that was absolutely incredible.
Pan seared in a little olive oil, seasoned with just sea salt and pepper. I started them skin side down for a few minutes until is is crispy, then a flip and just another minute or so more and out of the pan. I splooged in some Mae Ploy and let it reduce for a minute or so and then back into the pan with the salmon flesh side down. No heat at this point, just wanted to glaze them. Served over a bed of wild rice with a side "capsaicin salad" with sliced jalapenos, habs, and a sesame orange vinaigrette.
So good I jumped back and kissed myself 2 times.
So good I jumped back and kissed myself 2 times.
Sorry Jay T, I didn't have any of that sauce. Looked good though.
Here is mine since apparently it is fish Sunday.
Baked cod, baked potato and wedge salad. Vegetarian hippy wife's meal on the right. Faux chicken nuggets and baked sweet potato fries and wedge salad.
Seasoning on the fish was scorpion salt and black pepper
Hey look, bacon bits photo bombed the wedge salad on the right. Sorry TB. Well, not really.
The scorpion sea salt. I put dat $hit on everything.
To take a line from Tony's, when it is salty enough, it is seasoned to perfection.
Here is mine since apparently it is fish Sunday.
Baked cod, baked potato and wedge salad. Vegetarian hippy wife's meal on the right. Faux chicken nuggets and baked sweet potato fries and wedge salad.
Seasoning on the fish was scorpion salt and black pepper
Hey look, bacon bits photo bombed the wedge salad on the right. Sorry TB. Well, not really.
The scorpion sea salt. I put dat $hit on everything.
To take a line from Tony's, when it is salty enough, it is seasoned to perfection.
Love Jay's salmon.
The other sheeit.
Fake chicken nuggets?
Probably healthier to just eat chicken.
I'd eat that baked cod though.
The other sheeit.
Fake chicken nuggets?
Probably healthier to just eat chicken.
I'd eat that baked cod though.
I made fried oysters...off to my thread to post. 
JoynersHotPeppers said:I made fried oysters...off to my thread to post.
I hate you.
I love fried oysters and want some right now!!!!