Food Beware

There it was on the packaging: Natural chicken as an ingredient in frozen burritos. Natural chicken, as opposed to what? Unnatural chicken? Unnatural chicken would be maybe ones raised in, say, cages without ever touching the ground. Oops. Just like the majority of chickens today and most definitely what is in that pre-packaged burrito. So truth in advertising would have to list “unnatural chicken” to be precise.

Packaging warnings for imbeciles abound, thanks to lawyers everywhere. On a bag of prunes: Mechanically pitted may include the occasional pit or partial pits. My can of Pitted Olives reads: Machine pitted-may contain pits or pit fragments. So good news, artificial intelligence is not taking over all that soon. Seems the machines are not all that smart. The whole switch to machines was to eliminate human error. But now we have admitted machine error. So what goes on in that cyber assembly line? Do they just get chatting about the latest copy of Popular Mechanics and miss a few items on the conveyor belt?

I love mixed nuts so I was relieved to discover what is really in those nuts. The container lists: pecans, cashews, pistachios, and almonds. Then for the warning section, yup “contains nuts”. Ya think?

On my frozen salmon filets it reads: Boneless portions. May contain bones. Wouldn’t that make them “almost boneless” portions or how about “virtually boneless portions”.  Reality check: Unless it is a fish-a-ma-whatsy stick or patty where the bones and fish have been ground into a fine mash and then deep-fried, yeah, you might expect bones in real fish.

Or how about cooking instructions for an entrée (and I use that term loosely) that comes in a plastic tray. The directions read: DO NOT HEAT IN PLASTIC TRAY.  They should have added…because ovens are hot, heat melts plastic, moron.

And ingredient lists make for some fun reading. Tonight we are having ravioli made from Extra Fancy Durum Flour. It conjures up visions of bonnets on stalks of wheat, a Disney-a-fied scene with the wind blowing fields of wheat all dressed up like antebellum ladies, perhaps parasols and large skirts blowing this way and that all to “Old Man River” in the background… Where was I?

Not to be outdone by fancy-schmanzy flour, my olive oil is now not just virgin, but extra-virgin, (which sounds like someone who is not just a virgin, but went to an all girls Catholic Boarding School in a convent, for 14 years). According to my scientific source at Wikipedia, extra-virgin olive oil means it was produced by crushing olives in a cold press or centrifuge without chemicals. Doesn’t sound like a thing a virgin would be involved in to me.

Then I find out there is a 70% chance my extra-virgin olive oil could be a fake. (Is that like the Catholic girls who looked all prissy in their lace Peter Pan collars but were putting out behind the choir loft?) That’s right, there is fake olive oil and the Mafia is behind it. Makes sense they dilute wines with junky grape juice…why not oil? In this dastardly plot the real extra-virgin olive oil is co-mingled with lower grade oils or even canola oil. Then they add olive scent and sell it to suppliers. So there you have it. Someone is faking it!

Oh, and keep that extra-virgin on your counter. If she goes into the fridge, her purity turns into a thickened gloppy mass. In fact if she doesn’t morph into a jellyfish, she is an imposter. Be honest now, how many of you just put your olive oil into the fridge to see if she is a real virgin or a slut?

Warning: Reading this column may make you do some mighty weird things.

Sally Franz is a former stand-up comedian, motivational speaker, and radio host. She is a twice-divorced mother of two and a grandmother of three. Sally has a degree in gerontology and several awards for humor writing. She is the author of “Scrambled Leggs: A Snarky Tale of Hospital Hooey,” and “The Baby Boomer’s Guide to Menopause.”

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