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Message-ID: <1f03rih.1dcdkdsivv4o5N%jwgh@earthlink.net> Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology Subject: Re: Kibo broke my intrawebnet From: "Jacob W. Haller" <jwgh at earthlink.net> Date: Fri, 21 Sep 2001 21:10:18 -0400
James "Kibo" Parry <kibo at world.std.com> wrote:
[. . .]
-P. (falafel was ruined, thatsferdamsure)It's hard to ruin falafel. They're indestructible. Badly-made ones are like asteroids, only really small. [. . .]
Falafel!
I used to work in a vegetarian snack bar run by Brown University food services. It was usually pretty quiet, except some friday nights an entire fraternaty would descend on us, use their meal credits to buy as much orange juice as they could, and leave.
But that doesn't have anything to do with falafel! The following two stories do.
One of the things we made in the snack bar was falafel sandwiches. (We also made fried dough, omelettes, and served frozen yoghurt, which made me realize for the first time that VEGETARIAN IS NOT THE SAME AS HEALTHY.)
Making falafel was not difficult. You would take your gigantic bin of generic falafel dough, mold it into spheres, and deep fry it in the fryalator. Nonetheless occasionally we sould screw it up, resulting in dark brown falafels that were extra tough and burned tasting. These falafels would be discarded.
One particularly slow evening, one of my cow-orkers took some overcooked falafels, put them on a paper plate, sprinkled them with powdered sugar from the fried dough station, and put up a little sign that said "FREE DOUGHNUT HOLES". The expressions of people who were taken in were interesting.
Another activity for slow nights was creating oddly-shaped falafels. We made cubical falafels (these stacked well), conical ones, pyramidal ones. But I saved my real creativity for the LITTLE FALAFEL FACES! You could take a regular uncooked spherical falafel and mold it so it looked like a little head! I thought this was pretty neat.
Then one night, during my dinner break, I bought a falafel sandwich. I was munching away at it for a while, reading the student newspaper, when finally I happened to glance down. AND ONE OF THE FALAFELS WAS STARING BACK AT ME! For a brief instant I was seriously freaked out, and in that moment I vowed never to fashion another little falafel face ever again. AND I NEVER DID.
Another activity that certain of my cow-orkers indulged in on slow nights consisted of throwing ice into the fryalator. See, water is heavier than oil, so the ice cubes would sink. Then they would melt. Then they would boil, spraying anyone nearby with hot oil and causing much hilarity and burned skin! I disliked this practice, as it leant the making of falafel a somewhat chancy proposition.
Actually I guess this isn't really a story, just something that used to PISS ME OFF. But this was the bonus story anyway so it doesn't really matter.
Thanks!
-jwgh
--
"a metaphor requires the coordinated actions of 57 different muscles, a
simile only 14."
- Lee Doolan, talk.bizarre 18 Mar 1999