The Mysteries Of French Bread
Karin and I just had a five minute conversation about the pros and cons of french bread.
I contend that the central part of french bread, the non-crust part, is so good that I could eat a sandwich made of two-inch thick layers of the stuff, sans the crust. Karin is of the mindset that cutting two slices off of a loaf and scooping out a portion from each slice to make a sort of “pita pocket” capable of holding a nugget of tuna goodness would be much more preferable.
And in the middle of this biting discussion, in the back of my mind I’m jokingly thinking to myself, “Have we become so dull and complacent that the banal minutia and intricacies of sandwich making could cause a rift between us?” We could be discussing current world events, how political leaders on both sides of the aisle don’t seem to have our best interests at heart, or even our favorite cult films from the 80′s that begin with the letter “R” (for me it’s Repo Man, Remo Willams, and Real Genius), but instead we’re having an intense disagreement about sandwich bread protocol. Heh…
Oh well, whatever. Nevermind.
Let me leave you with this picture I snapped while we were wandering around town this past weekend. The longer I looked at this poster, the more evil I found it. I think it’s the eyes…
