Gastrological Forecast

Gwyneth Doland
2 min read
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So, I'm entering my stories in a new database these days. To be sure it's a hassle but the fun part is that I've got to train its spelling dictionary from scratch. The program recognizes myriad obscure international places and names but apparently not any of the ones I use. It knows the initials for the British Broadcasting Company, of course, but it also wants to use them for BBQ. When writing about my Jewish friend's recipe for kugel I get confused for a second when the computer asks me if I'm talking about the capital of Rwanda—Kigali. Very worldly. If you were ever turned off by an extra goaty-smelling brick of feta you'll be delighted to know that FileMaker Pro thinks it smells so much like feet that we should spell it that way. When I mention an Atkins special it wants to substitute a latkes special. Would you like a side of irony with that? A certain Italian restaurant I know almost got accused of serving veal jicama (it knows jicama but not piccata?) and calamari with mariner sauce. Mmm, salty. And when I recently wrote about hamburgers my fingers slipped and all of a sudden I found myself describing a big, fat hombre dripping with meaty juices. Whoa! How many of your abuelitas would blush if you asked what they had cooking in the horny today? More than a few. And I doubt Mary at Mary and Tito's would be pleased if I accepted the offer to substitute Tit's for her late husband's name. No, not so much.

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