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desperate meals


akebono

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i work nights, 4pm-4am.

sometimes i get stuck in the office.

for various reasons, i just can't leave.

sometimes i have no cash for the vending machines

because i am that absent minded. after 10pm

no delivery service is available...

have you ever been in the position

where you are starving, and your options

are extremely limited? what is the oddest,

or most desperate thing you have eaten?

i remember one night,

i ate matzo meal crackers with

chinese takeout condiments: soy sauce, hot mustard,

and duck sauce.

i sucked the ketchup out of a convienence pack.

and dissolved a total of 3 packettes of sugar in the

raw on my tongue in the wee small hours of the morning.

i know all that sounds fairly pathetic,

but i can't be alone.

trump me.

-m

Nonsense, I have not yet begun to defile myself.

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One night when I thought I was alone in the kitchen, my wife caught me sipping from the Kikkoman Teriyaki bottle.

Peter Gamble aka "Peter the eater"

I just made a cornish game hen with chestnut stuffing. . .

Would you believe a pigeon stuffed with spam? . . .

Would you believe a rat filled with cough drops?

Moe Sizlack

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One summer when I was about 19/20 years old I hung out in a small town in Oregon with a couple of friends who had a slummy apartment. We had absolutely no money and hardly any food. We had flour, yeast, water and some so-so oil and I baked a lot of bread. Once we ran out of that things began to get a little crazed. One day my friend Nick and I managed to scrounge a dollar in change from within the couch and we bought some ramen and we decided to hold out on our other friend so we took to hiding the ramen in the closet of a bedroom and when our friend would go to sleep we would make ramen to eat at 3 am. There was something faintly entertaining about this kind of Anne Frank-style pilfering. Next we returned some bottles for cash and Nick had about 5 dollars in his bank account and bought us some blood oranges. We took them and bicycled all the way to the Willamette River in the middle of a heat-wave (it was about ten miles of hard bicycling) and threw down our bikes, grabbed our small bag of blood oranges and proceeded to tear into them like savages. People sunning by the river looked at us like we were freaks. We might have been but we didn't care. We hadn't really eaten in several days. I turned Nick and said, "we must never speak of this to anyone. ever." We then took our bit of money we acquired from turning some bottles and went to the 24 hour taco shack and bought two large questionable-looking burritos. We stood there in the parking lot -again like savages, just tearing into the damn things. We then came home and our friend asked us, "hey where did you go?" Nick looked at me and then at him and said, "no where."

About a week later a friend introduced us to dumpster-diving and we found ourselves eating stale bagels from Noah's bagels and watermelon from the grocery store. Usually this was done at three am. I now know how raccoons feel.

This was also about the same period where I found myself drinking grape soda and eating tzakiki sauce at six am while watching the local news.

Slightly shameful but hilariously exciting.

Edited by Mrs.Jenner (log)
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During summer camp in boy scouts, the so-called leaders thought it smart to supply every patrol with a weeks worth of food at a time. First week all the good stuff was consumed first day, if not sooner. By the end of the week we resorted to making pancakes with water, flour and TANG. Somehow a packet of TANG had survived the initial onslaught, and we thought it might be good in "orange pancakes". We were wrong, but we were also very hungry, so we ate them.

The second week we decided to divy up all the goods equally...sadly this did not happen. The proceedings broke down rapidly and became every man for himself. Just like _Lord of the Flies_. Our patrol appropriately named wolf pack, was the worst of all patrols in this regard, the others were far more orderly and democratic. I'm sure you can see where this is headed. We took to raiding other campsites in the wee hours of the morning; even the adult leaders. The morning after the raid(s) all campsites were searched for the pilfered goods, and luckily they didn't lift up the trash bag inside of the trash can. Surprisingly our patrol "shared" the stolen goods much better than what we were supplied with. Go figure.

Those of us who still see each other still laugh about Tang pancakes.

A island in a lake, on a island in a lake, is where my house would be if I won the lottery.

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In college I once lived in a house with six other guys who all hoarded their food, which was segregated and crammed into highly competitive turf zones in the kitchen, which featured one regular fridge/freezer and three stacked minis. As a newcomer, I had one tiny shelf in a cabinet and even smaller real estate in one of the mini fridges. As two of the brokest in the herd, another roomie and I were notorious pilferers, learning how to shave a slice of ham from one guy's stack, a piece of cheese from another, etc. — scavenging which usually took place after midnight.

Andy had a large store of cheap rice, and virtually lived on a dish comprised of cooked rice, pilfered cheese, borrowed cocktail olives with pimentos and salsa, tossed in the microwave for a minute. And it wasn't too bad. Sometimes our habits would be subsidized by a kindhearted roommate who would return from a weekend home with truckload of his mother's Jewish cooking. Knishes for a week straight, topped with someone's mustard, broken up into the aforementioned rice/olive dish or, as I did on one desperate munchie binge (with a kasha knish), basted with butter, coated in brown sugar and cinnamon, baked and served with burgled ice cream. Hey, it sort of worked.

At another college apartment, when my funds dwindled, I was left with nothing but cooking oil, a sack of cornmeal and several onions. I survived on deep-fried hushpuppies for a week — until a roommate sick of everything coated in greasy residue and the place reeking of burnt oil bit the bullet and took me out for gyros.

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So there was a Roy Rogers within walking distance of the dorm...and on Sundays we usually slept thru brunch at the dining hall. I didn't have any money so when my friend went there to get a burger for lunch, I'd help myself to the stuff from the fixin's bar: lettuce, tomato, pickles. Topped off with mayo/catsup (hey, secret sauce dressing!)...and had a salad.

"Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast" - Oscar Wilde

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We knew a guy who paid full price for not much more than you assembled at the fixins bar. College Park had (still does, probably, but different ownership) a great little Greek placed called Marathon Deli. Gyros and souvlaki were killer. This guy was a thin, perpetually clean and groomed, workout type who counted calories and fat grams. He would stroll up to the counter and proudly order a "veggio gyro — and hold the Greek sauce" (tzatziki). They must have loved the profit margin they pocketed whilst handing over a pita wrapped around lettuce, hothouse tomatoes, onions, an olive or two and a sprinkling of feta.

"Mmmmm... these are incredible," he'd say after the first bite. I've never forgotten that quote.

Dad tells stories from his days at UVa. in the early '60s, when he and other broke friends would order the "Turkey Special" for a nickel or dime at a favorite dive. Two pieces of white bread spread with mayo and sprinkled with pepper.

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As a 14-15-year-old busboy working late, I would swipe a Pepperidge Farm roll out of the warming drawer, butter it and load it up with Hershey's chocolate syrup and whipped cream. This complemented the "Busboy Crack" I would make seperately: Strong coffee, hot chocolate mix, chocolate syrup, cream and maybe even creamer, more sugar, all shaken vigorously in a bar mixer dispenser and poured into shots for energy.

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Starving... nothing at desk... dry Cremora.... sugar... oh gawd... Guess it's Cremora and sugar. :( Hmmmm that month old strawberry Brummel and Brown and frozen bagel are starting to sound like a feast.

-therese

Many parts of a pine tree are edible.
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Starving and broke when my employer went to a new payroll system and I wasn't paid for 10 weeks, all I had was 1/4 pound of deer summer sausage and home-canned dill pickles for about 4 days...

I always attempt to have the ratio of my intelligence to weight ratio be greater than one. But, I am from the midwest. I am sure you can now understand my life's conundrum.

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College Park had (still does, probably, but different ownership) a great little Greek placed called Marathon Deli. Gyros and souvlaki were killer.

Marathon Deli is alive and well in College Park, and it seems to be the same owners, but I could easily be wrong. Truly the "best in the city."

Thanks,

Kevin

DarkSide Member #005-03-07-06

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I once ate cold chili straight from the can.

I did this just today with Campbell's Chunky Steakhouse Chili, though it was at room temperature so it wasn't that bad. Often (sadly) I'm too slothful to microwave whatever is in the can :sad:.

Thanks,

Kevin

DarkSide Member #005-03-07-06

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Last quarter I ran out of money on my food card about two weeks before the end of the quarter. Now, living about ten minutes from my parents' house, I had easy access to a lot of food (and probably money too), but for whatever reason I felt like seeing if I could last those two weeks with no money. The "convenience store" in my dorm gives away all the leftover pastries at the end of the night, which most of the time is bagels. I stocked up on these, about six a night, and stole packets of butter and cream cheese. This was more or less what I ate for those two weeks, stale bagels and stolen cream cheese. I also managed to scrounge up enough of my own money to buy some very cheap, past the pull date macaroni and cheese, made with water and the said stolen butter. If I was feeling luxurious, I'd add in some cream cheese. I also ate dinner every night with my friends who had not wasted all their money on Japanese candy (they have Pocky! It's hard not to...) and they usually gave me their leftovers out of pity. Normally I'd feel bad mooching but hey... I had no money. Somehow I made it through but a couple of times I started to feel dizzy from not eating. At the rate of spending I have this quarter, I'll probably be doing the same thing come March, and the convenience store has stoped giving away bagels...

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Desperate Meals?

Once upon a midnight dreary, working till my eyes were bleary,

I stumbled through the kitchen door.

While I rustled, stomach rumbling, muttering, cursing, swearing grumbling,

the goal, to sate my inner carnivore.

Here is something, something in my freezer door,

only this and nothing more.

Ah discovered meat of porcine, ground to a convenient portion,

a scant half block upon my door.

Eagerly I searched the tomes of wisdom, sages from the cooking canon,

but from my books was only sorrow, sorrow that I must endure.

For perfect partner to my porcine,

was not in my pantry anymore.

The tomes all said "pork with mango", the taste will make you want to tango,

alas no mango hanging from my pantry door.

I spied my eyes on fruit of kiwi, the goal is pork that's sweet and chewy,

surely this works even more.

The dinner shall be Pork and Kiwi,

twill be this and nothing more.

Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,

in the bowl the both were poured.

Middle stem was tough fibrous, pick it out and in the rubbish,

and do make sure the meat is thawed.

Unappetizing in appearance,

it looked like that and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, I feared the meal as unappealing,

while looking at refrigerator door.

Sauce of chilli, salt and pepper,

add you this and nothing more.

"But more?", This I whispered and an echo murmured back the word,

"No more!" Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the bowl a mixing, now I have all of my fixings,

"please taste good" I did implore.

Mould it so you have a patty, heat the pan with something fatty,

it makes sure sticking is no more.

Let my heart be still a moment,

this food indeed I must explore.

Once the pan is hot and smoking, the windows open or you'll be choking,

add the patty, do nothing more.

60 seconds wait no touching, the surface of the meat is crusting,

wait this long and not a second more.

Flip the meat and season carefully,

flipped and seasoned, nothing more.

Once the middle pink not showing, on the plate, it will be going,

a side of salad, nothing more.

Peering with some trepidation, a prayer of mindless recitation,

"please god let this dish taste better than those before!"

The memories of past abominations,

all chanting to me "Make no more!"

The meal quickly I did devour, I watched my tastebuds begin to flower,

the taste I simply did adore.

The sweet and meaty flavours contrasted, to make a meal I wish had lasted,

all the night and forevermore.

For Pork and Kiwi is divine in flavour,

here and now and forever more.

Fortune smiled upon my combo, as unlikely as it was to conjure,

something my fevered imagination drifted ashore.

The contrast made the dish compelling, each flavour note was telling,

both fruit and meat yet not as before.

The fortune of an unlikely combo,

twas good fate and nothing more.

So now my eyelids are all bleary, writing poems doth make me weary,

as I fumble, stumble to the door.

Silently, I curse my project, so hard to make it perfect,

there's only so many words that end in "oor".

I bid adieu to all you readers,

read this far and nothing more.

--Shalmanese

PS: I am a guy.

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Somehow, Shalmanese, I can not imagine that you would ever make anything that doesn't come out tasting good! I believe that you could give canned soup a decent end!

Edited by Rebecca263 (log)

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