Rather Prosaic

I want to believe that Canadian bacon is authentically Canadian, just like I want to believe that French toast is authentically French. I want to believe this because I want to believe that Canadians and French folks are gastronomically superior to Americans. As a matter of fact, at this very moment, I am chewing on a scrap of “Canadian” bacon. (And, no, I am not being euphemistic.) Specifically, I’m enjoying a Swanson Great Starts English Muffin with Low Fat Egg Patty, Canadian Style Bacon, and Cheese Light Breakfast Sandwich. Quite filling, I must say. The Dominick’s down the street never stocks enough of them. Come to think of it, that store rarely stocks enough of anything I like. Could it be that I prefer too many popular things? Hm. And all this time I’ve assumed my palate was rather eccentric. 

9 January 2001

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