Carrot Top

Wonder Bread, however, "builds strong bodies twelve ways". And if you tear off the crusts from the slices and press them between your hands till they form little round balls, it is quite adequate nourishment for the entire day. Obviously it is unneccesary to wash your hands before doing this. Only friendly bacteria ever grows on Wonder Bread.

Nobody ever believed that nonsensical endlessly boring statement about "An apple a day keeps the doctor away" either. What is the very first thing in the lunchbox to get traded if at all possible? The apple. Always the apple.

Bennie's tastebuds were never quite the same after that lightning incident.

Sorry. Can't seem to stop. Eating spinach (if you are a girl) will make you smart. If you are a boy it will make you strong like Popeye. ................................................................... Some people I grew up with believed that if you ate fish on Friday you were among the Righteous and Good. Anyone who did not eat fish on Friday obviously by default was doomed to roast in the flames of eternal Hell when the time came.

Keebler cookies are made by happy elves.

And here is some knowledge that only children know. Grown-ups lose this wisdom, as it does not affect them in their elderly state. . .therefore children always have to know this secret themselves and follow its tenet to the rule or disaster will occur. Eating liver will kill you.

And the reason why I had to start wearing glasses in the second grade was not because everyone in my family wore them, nor was it because of the fact that I used to hide under the covers with a flashlight for hours at bedtime secretly reading books, or for any other reason at all. It was because I did not eat my carrots.

Well there you go. If it was a giant hamburger-shooting hamburger, it just would not be right somehow, would it. Though I would think that instead, you guys should have a giant corncob-shooting corncob. That would work, too - and the theme would match the team, no? Here we have a giant turkey. An orange and burgundy giant turkey. With a loopy-sort of look on its face. It is called a "Hokey-Bird". Isn't that wonderful? But this does bring up mention of competitors to the claim of "America's Food" - whatever happened to "As American as Apple Pie?" or of course, turkey. But maybe turkey is only our semiotic food on Thanksgiving and Christmas - to be tucked away with the decorations for the rest of the year. . .

Of course everyone knows that the way babies come into the world is that we find them under cabbage leaves.

Personally I pictured a skinny looking broccoli sprig with a lisp dancing around in a top hat and tux on top of sump pump beautifully rainbow-painted with dollar signs. Can't say that it made me too hungry.

From The American Heritage Dictionary: aspiration: 1. Expulsion of breath in speech. 2. a. The pronunciation of a consonant with an aspirate. b. A speech sound pronounced with an aspirate. 3. The act of breathing in, inhalation. 4. The process of removing fluids or gases from the body with a suction device. 5. a. A desire for strong achievement. b. An object of such desire; an ambition. (Sigh.)

That food looks great, Rachel - but I have to tell you that when I first read this, I was not concentrating well and for some reason got it into my head from the get-go that you were talking about that Daisy person from MTV rather than this Daisy person from PBS. Uh. Well. Need I say more? P.S. Definitely looks like something to add to the Amazon wish list, this book.

Along with this thought another one to muse upon is The Red Lobster when it is in the state of Maine.

Before organic chickens came packaged in plastic to our chain grocery stores, there were live poultry markets in many cities where one could go to pick out a bird, have it killed and cleaned, then take it home to cook. The flavors of those birds (whether organically fed or not) was rich, stupendous, fantastic, enticing. I remember markets in Little Italy in NYC, out near the water in Red Hook, Brooklyn. . .one in Bridgeport, Connecticut and one (naturally) in Paris. Do they still exist anywhere?

Wow. Deja vu, Ling. I had the same experience once many years ago -eight or ten people at a dinner where everyone's idea of "food to bring" turned out to be bottles of wine. I brought a roast chicken - a "fresh-killed" one from the market they used to have where we lived then that was housed in an old ware-house type space, where you would walk in and pick out your chicken as it clucked in the lines of cages - all varieties of birds, all sizes, so many colors. . . The taste of that chicken was one that will remain in memory forever. Particularly since I think people were trying to inhale the very bones of the thing. The effect of drinking a lot of wine then watching supposedly normal people attack a small roasted bird, tearing at it ravenously as if they had all turned to strange troll-like creatures was unforgettable, too. Whew.

Somewhat safer to eat than "Mixed Gotti Soup", anyway.

Your mention of raw hot dogs reminded me that (along with raw bacon) they were one of the things I used to take from the fridge and just eat, when my mother was not home, as a child. (This could be the reason for the way I am today, perhaps. ) Anyway - it also came to mind that besides hot dogs in a bun and hot dogs on a plate as a meal, there are several other ways I've seen them eaten. A babysitter I had in Second Grade (first generation Italian) used to make the same sandwich for lunch AND as an after-school snack (those were the days when one walked home for lunch from elementary school ) for her two daughters and myself, every single day. Sliced cold hot dogs on white bread with ketchup, cut in half (straight across not diagonally of course). It didn't bother me too much, but one day when my mother came to pick me up after school and found me sitting on the front step of the babysitters house where I'd been directed to go till my mother was due to pick me up (for the dreadful sin the sitter had caught me in of playing tag with the boys on the school playground) (again, vastly different times it was in Euclid, Ohio in 1963. . . ) with one of these sandwiches clutched in my hand, it was (apparently) the idea of the sandwich that inscensed her enough to discontinue any visits to that babysitter and instead, to have me make my own lunch and after-school snack at home by myself. Heh. So indirectly, cold hot dogs were responsible for my being taught responsiblity for self at a rather young age. Another sliced hot dog story - my Italian mother-in-law used to feed her six children polenta with sliced hot dogs in it. . .a soupy sort of thing. The family apparently loved it. So there is yet another form here that the hot dog takes in America - as a substitution for whatever sorts of sausages existed in the original recipes "in the old country". And again, something affordable.

Roald Dahl and Apicius. And I am in full in agreement with pork in specifying the addendum he added to his post. They would have to be naked. What fun!

But if we are going to discuss the semiotics of the hot dog, surely we must also discuss the semiotics of all that surrounds it, starting with the bun. What does it mean that hot-dogs themselves are packaged in sets of eight and hot-dog buns are packaged in sets of six? Does this say to the world (semiotically) that in our culture there are simply never enough buns to go around for the amount of hot dogs out there? Does it mean that we always feel ourselves to be two buns short? Perhaps it is an economic semiotic that reminds us that even if we buy the cheapest processed foods in America, we can expect to get financially screwed or confused somehow? Really. For what is a hot dog without a bun, I ask you?

It certainly is true also, that each and every elementary school "social" function (and they seem to be endless) depends on raising funds by selling hot dogs, either dried out cold ones that were heated at home and carried hopefully into the school auditorium and placed on the long tables in battered aluminum tins covered with foil. . .or hot overblown strangely shaped ones that float in water dotted with their own lost grease spots. . .bumping their ends merrily together in the warmed water in the hot pots plugged into the wall with endless lengths of extension cords. . . .either sort then pried up with a fork and stuffed onto cheap buns that have at least one hardened tough spot from sitting out in a half-torn plastic bag for way too long. . .dribbled with cheap mustard or squiggled with tons of ketchup, they raise funds for our childrens education. Or I think they do anyway. It is entirely possible that the teachers would want to run out into the night towards the nearest bar and drink up the profits after watching the kids and their parents gobble those things down endlessly. (Please forgive me. Too many years spent in endless PTA meetings offering to do a pigroast for a fundraising function, ANY fundraising function, and always, ALWAYS having the vote go to. . . ta da! The hot-dog! With potato chips and soda, bien sur.)

No A&W's around here. . .they closed the last one nearby (that was in a mall foodcourt in Roanoke) last year. I still mourn Zum-Zum's.

One of the "user reviews" voted "no" when asked if the place was romantic. Gosh. Whyever not I wonder? .................................................. In terms of finally determining the semiotics of the hot dog, this morning the thought came to mind to wonder if there is such a thing as a "Semiotic Table". You know, sort of like "The Periodic Table of Elements" but rather used to determine semiotic values of food words (and other cultural elements naturally). Can any of you academics out there advise on such a thing? It would be very useful for the business world, I imagine. Helpful in deciding what to name your restaurant, you know, based on the score your food words received in whatever categories there were. . . Really. Can you imagine if "Five Guys Burgers and Fries" was named instead "Five Guys Hot Dogs and Fries"? Surely it would be a bust. . .

This is true. And now I am worried. (I'm assuming you mean A&W when you say "hot dog chain"? Or is there something out there in America I'm missing?) When I think of "places to get hot dogs" I think of Sabrett carts; Seven-Eleven ; Orange Julius and by not-so-happy extension Dairy Queen; Hardee's; Sonic; and oh! lots of other independent places. Here nearby in Roanoke there is a true hot dog place, too. Found a link to it and more at Holly's: Roanoke Wiener Stand Hollyeats Ahhh. Now I'm really getting hungry. This hot dog thing is not such a bad idea after all.

Let me pry my tongue from my cheek momentarily too - to say that I think I've found the popular origin in print media of the word "hot dog". In "American Food" Evan Jones says the "nickname came along when a sports cartoonist created a dachshund with a body that looked like a sausage" and also noted that immigrant German butchers often kept these dogs in their shops. This is supported by "The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Drink in America" which states that "the term 'hot-dog' was certainly popularized by such originators of slang phrases as the sports cartoonist T.A. Dorgan (TAD) early in the twentieth century." I'd love to see those cartoons. ............................................................... Jack, it is no surprise how you feel about the hot-dog. You are surrounded by people to whom, apparently, it does not exist. (Or at the very least, it is something not spoken of in polite conversation! ) Neither "The Oxford Companion to Food" nor the "Cambridge World History of Food" have mention of the dreaded thing. ................................................................... Sorry about taking so long to relay this information. . .had to make burgers for dinner. Now do tell, Jack - if the hot dog is the cultural food symbol of America (though I'm not quite sure it is anymore, really) . .what is the symbol of England? P.S. I just noticed that somehow we all started talking about the hot-dog and neglected the hamburger. Now if that doesn't demonstrate the true value of semiotics, I don't know what does. . .

"When mighty roast beef was the Englishman's food, It enobled our hearts and enriched our blood, Our soldiers were brave and our courtiers good. Oh! The roast beef of old England!" Richard Leveridge Place a steak in front of the lady. The Queen of England (if indeed it is true that she requests "no garlic") is far from the only political figure in the world to make special requests wherever they travel. And garlic is often not used at all, in many Northern Italian cuisines.