It's an embarrassment of riches. I had THREE questions in my in-box this morning, which is an HTT record. Had I known that rambling about condiments would bring such great letters out of the woodwork, I might have started working my way from ancho chili paste to wasabi before now.
Stay tuned!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
More on peanut butter
My quest for the perfect peanut butter might be over.
When last we touched upon this topic, I was upset that my favorite brand (Peter Pan Honey Roasted) had been recalled thanks to some pesky salmonella poisoning. I thought I'd discovered an adequate replacement in Jiff, also supposedly honey roasted. However, Jiff, while disease-free, tastes bland.
Turns out, if you shop very early in the morning, you have much more time to scrutinize the peanut butter selection. (Insomnia is good for something!) During my barely-post-dawn expedition, I found this brand:
Now you smooth peanut butter purists will scoff. But this brand boasts a hint of cinnamon and has raisins mixed right in! Yum! Granted, you're probably not going to want to use it in your spicy peanut noodles or satay sauce, but on a whole wheat English Muffin, it's heaven.
(Send questions, please, or next I start rating mustards.)
When last we touched upon this topic, I was upset that my favorite brand (Peter Pan Honey Roasted) had been recalled thanks to some pesky salmonella poisoning. I thought I'd discovered an adequate replacement in Jiff, also supposedly honey roasted. However, Jiff, while disease-free, tastes bland.
Turns out, if you shop very early in the morning, you have much more time to scrutinize the peanut butter selection. (Insomnia is good for something!) During my barely-post-dawn expedition, I found this brand:
Now you smooth peanut butter purists will scoff. But this brand boasts a hint of cinnamon and has raisins mixed right in! Yum! Granted, you're probably not going to want to use it in your spicy peanut noodles or satay sauce, but on a whole wheat English Muffin, it's heaven.
(Send questions, please, or next I start rating mustards.)
Sunday, March 18, 2007
WWMPD
So, last night, I went out to meet a friend and a bunch of her coworkers at The Federal. The place was packed, between St. Patrick's Day and the NCAA tournament. One reveler we were with came back to our table from a trip to the bar where she'd taken a picure of a guy wearing this t-shirt:
(What up with this guy, above, wearing a cross AND a t-shirt about his penis?)
Anyway, her picture was a close-up, so you could only see the words, and I was curious about what kind of man would wear such a shirt. So, she promptly went off to find him and brought him back to our table. In fairness to him, I will say he looked a little sheepish (although not, to my mind, sheepish enough). I told him the shirt begged the question, "Well, what would it do?" and he mumbled, "it depends on the situation."
He told us his girlfriend gave him the shirt. None of us believed him. I mean, really. His girlfriend?
(What up with this guy, above, wearing a cross AND a t-shirt about his penis?)
Anyway, her picture was a close-up, so you could only see the words, and I was curious about what kind of man would wear such a shirt. So, she promptly went off to find him and brought him back to our table. In fairness to him, I will say he looked a little sheepish (although not, to my mind, sheepish enough). I told him the shirt begged the question, "Well, what would it do?" and he mumbled, "it depends on the situation."
He told us his girlfriend gave him the shirt. None of us believed him. I mean, really. His girlfriend?
Saturday, March 17, 2007
HTT, should I tell my friend to can it?
Dear HTT,
I have a friend who won’t stop talking about an ex-boyfriend. “Karl” is mentioned in just about every conversation. She and Karl dated off and on for a rocky five years or so—he was possessive, jealous, had a serious drinking problem, plus her kids didn’t like him and she didn’t like his family. The only positive thing she has said about him was that he was drop-dead gorgeous.
Their relationship ended badly after a particularly bad alcohol-induced argument. That was fifteen years ago. Since then, they’ve had no contact. She discovered about a year ago that he died in 2004. My friend was understandably very upset, but said she wasn’t really surprised at his passing given the extent of his drinking problem. Nevertheless, she claims the happiest time of her life was spent on the beach with Karl.
But here’s the kicker: She’s been happily (according to her) married for the past ten years to an intelligent, attractive, caring man who isn’t possessive, is a great father to her children and doesn’t have a drinking problem. My friend has no complaints about her husband, yet she still talks longingly about Karl--she watches TV shows which feature actors who remind her of him, she listens to music from the time they spent together. As her friend I know more about the significant details of her relationship with Karl than I do about her relationship with her husband. Recently she and her husband attended a romantic, black tie and champagne event at a historic hotel as part of a romantic weekend getaway. While dancing with her husband under the crystal chandelier, she said the music reminded her of dancing with Karl.
I’ve been trying to break my friend of talking to me so much about Karl, especially in front of her husband, as it makes me uncomfortable. I asked her to consider whether all the talk of Karl might be hurtful to her husband. She claims it never bothers him. I worry that by thinking so much about the past, my friend will create problems with the guy she has now and miss out on good times with him. Besides, the old boyfriend is not only long gone, it sounds like he was bad news best left in the past.
Should I say something more to my friend, or keep my big damn opinionated mouth shut?
Enough Already
Dear Enough Already,
You should say something more to your friend.
That might be the fastest I’ve ever gotten around to giving my opinion!
But now, two quick stories. And you thought you were getting off easy.
I have a very good friend, whom I love dearly. She is warm, kind, smart, funny, supportive…basically, everything you could ever hope for in a friend.
But her cell phone, which she uses frequently because of the nature of her work, plays Gary Wright's “Dream Weaver” when it rings. And it rings often. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been stuck humming “Dreammmmmmmweaver” for hours after she gets a phone call. Anyway, she and I and another friend were about to embark on vacation, and when we got to the airport I said, “I hope you’re not planning to bring your cell phone with you, because the first time I hear ‘Dream Weaver’ in Ireland, I’m tossing that thing out the window.” I heard nary a 70s chestnut the entire vacation.
On the same trip, I commented more than a few times that a certain cow or sheep or pig reminded me of my dog, Samson. (There is no rational explanation, really. I missed him, and cows have kind, brown eyes like he does and are often similarly
spotted. Whatever.) One day, in Northern Ireland, standing on a wall overlooking the town of Derry, my Dream-Weaver-loving friend pointed wistfully to a border collie that brought to mind her own. To which I replied, “This dog doesn’t look like yours. This one’s got a lot more white on her.” My friend gave me an incredulous stare and said, with an even, but clearly displeased voice, “Oh. Sure. You can be reminded of your dog by FARM animals, but I look at a DOG of the same BREED, and can’t be reminded of my dog?” I laughed at how ridiculous I’d been and shut up about dogs after that.
(I’m getting back round to you, so bear with me.)
You say you’ve already tried to break your friend of her dead ex-boyfriend habit. You likely did so with tact and grace. Unsuccessfully. As such, it might be time to say less-than-half-jokingly, “I’m going to lose my mind if I have to hear about Karl one more time.” I know this doesn’t jibe with my usual advice, which tends occupy the “be honest but gentle” territory. But what I tried to get across with my Ireland stories is that sometimes it takes a direct, straightforward, and possibly even jarring comment to get through to people. A strong friendship can take it, and anyone with a sense of humor should be able to laugh at herself and recognize her foibles.
I think you need to risk it. This is a quality of life issue for you and a mental health issue for her. How much you should be concerned about the latter depends on how close you two are, but you have every right to want to improve the former.
Best of luck!
HTT
I have a friend who won’t stop talking about an ex-boyfriend. “Karl” is mentioned in just about every conversation. She and Karl dated off and on for a rocky five years or so—he was possessive, jealous, had a serious drinking problem, plus her kids didn’t like him and she didn’t like his family. The only positive thing she has said about him was that he was drop-dead gorgeous.
Their relationship ended badly after a particularly bad alcohol-induced argument. That was fifteen years ago. Since then, they’ve had no contact. She discovered about a year ago that he died in 2004. My friend was understandably very upset, but said she wasn’t really surprised at his passing given the extent of his drinking problem. Nevertheless, she claims the happiest time of her life was spent on the beach with Karl.
But here’s the kicker: She’s been happily (according to her) married for the past ten years to an intelligent, attractive, caring man who isn’t possessive, is a great father to her children and doesn’t have a drinking problem. My friend has no complaints about her husband, yet she still talks longingly about Karl--she watches TV shows which feature actors who remind her of him, she listens to music from the time they spent together. As her friend I know more about the significant details of her relationship with Karl than I do about her relationship with her husband. Recently she and her husband attended a romantic, black tie and champagne event at a historic hotel as part of a romantic weekend getaway. While dancing with her husband under the crystal chandelier, she said the music reminded her of dancing with Karl.
I’ve been trying to break my friend of talking to me so much about Karl, especially in front of her husband, as it makes me uncomfortable. I asked her to consider whether all the talk of Karl might be hurtful to her husband. She claims it never bothers him. I worry that by thinking so much about the past, my friend will create problems with the guy she has now and miss out on good times with him. Besides, the old boyfriend is not only long gone, it sounds like he was bad news best left in the past.
Should I say something more to my friend, or keep my big damn opinionated mouth shut?
Enough Already
Dear Enough Already,
You should say something more to your friend.
That might be the fastest I’ve ever gotten around to giving my opinion!
But now, two quick stories. And you thought you were getting off easy.
I have a very good friend, whom I love dearly. She is warm, kind, smart, funny, supportive…basically, everything you could ever hope for in a friend.
But her cell phone, which she uses frequently because of the nature of her work, plays Gary Wright's “Dream Weaver” when it rings. And it rings often. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been stuck humming “Dreammmmmmmweaver” for hours after she gets a phone call. Anyway, she and I and another friend were about to embark on vacation, and when we got to the airport I said, “I hope you’re not planning to bring your cell phone with you, because the first time I hear ‘Dream Weaver’ in Ireland, I’m tossing that thing out the window.” I heard nary a 70s chestnut the entire vacation.On the same trip, I commented more than a few times that a certain cow or sheep or pig reminded me of my dog, Samson. (There is no rational explanation, really. I missed him, and cows have kind, brown eyes like he does and are often similarly
spotted. Whatever.) One day, in Northern Ireland, standing on a wall overlooking the town of Derry, my Dream-Weaver-loving friend pointed wistfully to a border collie that brought to mind her own. To which I replied, “This dog doesn’t look like yours. This one’s got a lot more white on her.” My friend gave me an incredulous stare and said, with an even, but clearly displeased voice, “Oh. Sure. You can be reminded of your dog by FARM animals, but I look at a DOG of the same BREED, and can’t be reminded of my dog?” I laughed at how ridiculous I’d been and shut up about dogs after that.(I’m getting back round to you, so bear with me.)
You say you’ve already tried to break your friend of her dead ex-boyfriend habit. You likely did so with tact and grace. Unsuccessfully. As such, it might be time to say less-than-half-jokingly, “I’m going to lose my mind if I have to hear about Karl one more time.” I know this doesn’t jibe with my usual advice, which tends occupy the “be honest but gentle” territory. But what I tried to get across with my Ireland stories is that sometimes it takes a direct, straightforward, and possibly even jarring comment to get through to people. A strong friendship can take it, and anyone with a sense of humor should be able to laugh at herself and recognize her foibles.
I think you need to risk it. This is a quality of life issue for you and a mental health issue for her. How much you should be concerned about the latter depends on how close you two are, but you have every right to want to improve the former.
Best of luck!
HTT
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
HTT, I'm fit to be tied!
Dear HTT,
I'm sick of people equating thin with fit! Just because you're a size 4 does not mean you are a triathlete! It means your measurements are such that a size 4 fits you.
I am far from a size 4, but that doesn't mean that I'm not fit. I would pit myself against many punier gals in an arm wrestling challenge, a long uphill hike, or a 20-lap free-style swim race.
But, when a man says he is looking for a "fit" "fun" date on one of those online dating sites -- he doesn't mean my brand of "fit". He means size 4 -- and he's imagining some less ummmm rotund "fun".
How in the world do us fuller-figured gals compete in this thin-centric world?
Not Size 4 in NC
Dear Not a Size 4 (NS4),
Let me be blunt, NS4. If your potential date were really concerned about your “fitness,” he’d bring a blood pressure cuff to y’all’s first meeting at Starbucks.
Actually, according to the Mayo Clinic’s web site, you need the following tools to assess your fitness levels:
• A stopwatch
• A cloth measuring tape
• A yardstick
• Heavy-duty tape
• Someone to assist you with a flexibility test
Granted, it would be extremely creepy if a guy pulled out this bag of tricks mid-latte. And any first-date offers to test my flexibility are likely to be met with a frown and a raised eyebrow. Unless he’s cute and funny, wears cool glasses, and has an above-average vocabulary (a foreign accent couldn’t hurt).
So that’s just silly. But the point is that size (or BMI) is just one of the four fitness tests, the others being aerobic fitness, muscular strength, and flexibility. And I personally have never had a potential date ask me about my pulse or the number of push-ups I’m able to do. What this all comes down to is that yes, I believe you are correct in assuming that when a man says he’s looking for a “fit” woman, he probably means “thin.” Or trim, or petite, or shapely, or height/weight proportionate…you get the picture.
So why do people use the word “fit,” when plenty of other adjectives are more accurate? I think they fear that they sound shallow for being driven by aesthetics. And I used to think they were shallow. But here’s the thing (oh, I love when I can throw that around!), we like what we like. I like what I like. I’m not sure that we can drastically change what we’re attracted to. To an extent, our attractions are shaped by society, and the media, and our upbringing, and our culture, but even if attraction isn’t written into our DNA, it’s pretty hard to buck all that other stuff that shapes our desires.
As a big gal myself, I’ve often wished I were born into a time when the beauty standard leaned a little bit more in my direction. Maybe the pendulum will swing closer to us one of these days. But, in the meantime, how do you compete with your size 4 sisters? Honestly? You don’t. Why beat your head against the wall? If you’re going to try on-line dating, search for the guys who aren’t looking for someone “fit,” no matter how many people you can take in an arm wrestling contest. Look for the men who like a beautiful, active, full-bodied woman! They might make up a smaller slice of the pie, but it's a slice all the same.
Good luck, NS4.
HTT
I'm sick of people equating thin with fit! Just because you're a size 4 does not mean you are a triathlete! It means your measurements are such that a size 4 fits you.
I am far from a size 4, but that doesn't mean that I'm not fit. I would pit myself against many punier gals in an arm wrestling challenge, a long uphill hike, or a 20-lap free-style swim race.
But, when a man says he is looking for a "fit" "fun" date on one of those online dating sites -- he doesn't mean my brand of "fit". He means size 4 -- and he's imagining some less ummmm rotund "fun".
How in the world do us fuller-figured gals compete in this thin-centric world?
Not Size 4 in NC
Dear Not a Size 4 (NS4),
Let me be blunt, NS4. If your potential date were really concerned about your “fitness,” he’d bring a blood pressure cuff to y’all’s first meeting at Starbucks.
Actually, according to the Mayo Clinic’s web site, you need the following tools to assess your fitness levels:
• A stopwatch
• A cloth measuring tape
• A yardstick
• Heavy-duty tape
• Someone to assist you with a flexibility test
Granted, it would be extremely creepy if a guy pulled out this bag of tricks mid-latte. And any first-date offers to test my flexibility are likely to be met with a frown and a raised eyebrow. Unless he’s cute and funny, wears cool glasses, and has an above-average vocabulary (a foreign accent couldn’t hurt).
So that’s just silly. But the point is that size (or BMI) is just one of the four fitness tests, the others being aerobic fitness, muscular strength, and flexibility. And I personally have never had a potential date ask me about my pulse or the number of push-ups I’m able to do. What this all comes down to is that yes, I believe you are correct in assuming that when a man says he’s looking for a “fit” woman, he probably means “thin.” Or trim, or petite, or shapely, or height/weight proportionate…you get the picture.
So why do people use the word “fit,” when plenty of other adjectives are more accurate? I think they fear that they sound shallow for being driven by aesthetics. And I used to think they were shallow. But here’s the thing (oh, I love when I can throw that around!), we like what we like. I like what I like. I’m not sure that we can drastically change what we’re attracted to. To an extent, our attractions are shaped by society, and the media, and our upbringing, and our culture, but even if attraction isn’t written into our DNA, it’s pretty hard to buck all that other stuff that shapes our desires.
As a big gal myself, I’ve often wished I were born into a time when the beauty standard leaned a little bit more in my direction. Maybe the pendulum will swing closer to us one of these days. But, in the meantime, how do you compete with your size 4 sisters? Honestly? You don’t. Why beat your head against the wall? If you’re going to try on-line dating, search for the guys who aren’t looking for someone “fit,” no matter how many people you can take in an arm wrestling contest. Look for the men who like a beautiful, active, full-bodied woman! They might make up a smaller slice of the pie, but it's a slice all the same.
Good luck, NS4.
HTT
Monday, March 12, 2007
HTT: Do I tell my friend that her head looks like an eggplant?
Dear HTT,
Several months ago, after complaining for years about not liking her hair, a friend of mine got a drastic new hair-do. She had many inches cut off and she colored it with a shade that sported odd undertones. Really, when the sun hit it at just the right angle, it gave off an eggplanty glow. She came to my house straight from the salon looking for affirmation and support. And I gave it to her. As much as I hated her new look, I just didn’t want to crush her when clearly she wasn’t feeling great about it herself. (She’s had a lot of real trouble of late and bad hair was the last thing she needed.) So, I might have gone overboard. Instead of saying something like, “Well, it’s not bad” or “The change is kind of overwhelming but I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” I practically raved.
So now after about four months, her hair has grown out some and the color has faded enough that she no longer has an aura around her head. But she’s making plans to go back to the same salon and ask for a repeat! What should I do? I really think the look wasn’t very flattering, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. And I feel a little responsible since I praised it so highly the first time. Am I going to hell for my big white lie? Should I fess up? Or is it possible she really likes the hair do, and does that mean I should just keep my mouth shut?
A hairy problem
Dear Hairy Problem,
First, I don’t really believe in hell, so no, I don’t think you’re headed there. But let me pretend, for a second, that I am worried about eternal damnation, and maybe I should be! Even then I can’t help but feel that the intention of your white lie---to keep from hurting your friend’s feelings---will get you off the hook and out of the handbasket.
But I doubt a theological discussion was really what you were after, so let’s move on to an issue about which I have much more authority: hair and all its related problems. I, myself, have suffered for years with a hair inferiority complex. Mine is big and unruly. It’s rarely professional and often looks as if I’ve just ended a 200-mile road trip taken at full speed with the windows down. It cannot be forced into any hip, kicky style. As often as not I pull my hair back into a ponytail, which is not exactly the height of fashion but which keeps its frizzy curls out of my way. My bathroom cabinet is, at this very moment, overflowing with potions, lotions, waxes, salves, serums, gels, mousses, sprays, putties, infusions, moisturizers, and balms that I’ve used in millions of combinations in an attempt to achieve good hair.
So I can empathize with your friend’s frustration over the hair status quo and I can see why went she for broke with a brand new do. I applaud her for trying something radical. And you for not hurting her feelings. You did what you thought was right in the moment. But now I think your chance to tell her you don’t like her hair has passed. After all, no matter how much she needed your encouragement at first, it sounds like she’s grown to like her hair style. Maybe she enjoys the attention that a purple aura attracts.
On the other hand, if she’s less decisive than I’m imagining, if she’s hemming and hawing, if she flat out asks you what you think, be gentle but honest. Apologize for misleading her last time. I think she’ll understand.
Good luck!
HTT
Several months ago, after complaining for years about not liking her hair, a friend of mine got a drastic new hair-do. She had many inches cut off and she colored it with a shade that sported odd undertones. Really, when the sun hit it at just the right angle, it gave off an eggplanty glow. She came to my house straight from the salon looking for affirmation and support. And I gave it to her. As much as I hated her new look, I just didn’t want to crush her when clearly she wasn’t feeling great about it herself. (She’s had a lot of real trouble of late and bad hair was the last thing she needed.) So, I might have gone overboard. Instead of saying something like, “Well, it’s not bad” or “The change is kind of overwhelming but I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” I practically raved.
So now after about four months, her hair has grown out some and the color has faded enough that she no longer has an aura around her head. But she’s making plans to go back to the same salon and ask for a repeat! What should I do? I really think the look wasn’t very flattering, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. And I feel a little responsible since I praised it so highly the first time. Am I going to hell for my big white lie? Should I fess up? Or is it possible she really likes the hair do, and does that mean I should just keep my mouth shut?
A hairy problem
Dear Hairy Problem,
First, I don’t really believe in hell, so no, I don’t think you’re headed there. But let me pretend, for a second, that I am worried about eternal damnation, and maybe I should be! Even then I can’t help but feel that the intention of your white lie---to keep from hurting your friend’s feelings---will get you off the hook and out of the handbasket.
But I doubt a theological discussion was really what you were after, so let’s move on to an issue about which I have much more authority: hair and all its related problems. I, myself, have suffered for years with a hair inferiority complex. Mine is big and unruly. It’s rarely professional and often looks as if I’ve just ended a 200-mile road trip taken at full speed with the windows down. It cannot be forced into any hip, kicky style. As often as not I pull my hair back into a ponytail, which is not exactly the height of fashion but which keeps its frizzy curls out of my way. My bathroom cabinet is, at this very moment, overflowing with potions, lotions, waxes, salves, serums, gels, mousses, sprays, putties, infusions, moisturizers, and balms that I’ve used in millions of combinations in an attempt to achieve good hair.
So I can empathize with your friend’s frustration over the hair status quo and I can see why went she for broke with a brand new do. I applaud her for trying something radical. And you for not hurting her feelings. You did what you thought was right in the moment. But now I think your chance to tell her you don’t like her hair has passed. After all, no matter how much she needed your encouragement at first, it sounds like she’s grown to like her hair style. Maybe she enjoys the attention that a purple aura attracts.
On the other hand, if she’s less decisive than I’m imagining, if she’s hemming and hawing, if she flat out asks you what you think, be gentle but honest. Apologize for misleading her last time. I think she’ll understand.
Good luck!
HTT
Sexing it up
Well, that might get someone's attention.
So, most of you know that I'm an editor and writer. And not just of this column, I mean. (Good thing I have an actual job, because HTT does not, as of yet, pay the bills.) Today, I was working on a short piece about a service my organization offers to researchers who study infectious diseases like TB, malaria, dengue fever, and others. This service essentially involves training scientists in developing countries how to conduct research according to various international standards. (Turns out international standards-setters are picky about the conduct of research.) We teach them things like biostatistics, good clinical practice, scientific writing, data management, and protocol development. I think this is interesting work. I've even participated in some of these trainings, and had the opportunity to travel as a result, so I'm all for it. All this is to say that I'm not minimizing the importance of this service.
However, when I turned in my draft, someone asked me to "sex it up" a little bit. Um....o.k....sex it up. Right. Let me give you a picture of what this training actually looks like. It looks like a couple of people giving PowerPoint presentations while a bunch of others watch and take notes. It looks like people hunched over manuscripts for hours. At its sexiest, it looks like someone walking around a lab with a clipboard. Hot!
So, I'm not sure how to revise my piece based on this suggestion, but it did give me a chuckle anyway.
So, most of you know that I'm an editor and writer. And not just of this column, I mean. (Good thing I have an actual job, because HTT does not, as of yet, pay the bills.) Today, I was working on a short piece about a service my organization offers to researchers who study infectious diseases like TB, malaria, dengue fever, and others. This service essentially involves training scientists in developing countries how to conduct research according to various international standards. (Turns out international standards-setters are picky about the conduct of research.) We teach them things like biostatistics, good clinical practice, scientific writing, data management, and protocol development. I think this is interesting work. I've even participated in some of these trainings, and had the opportunity to travel as a result, so I'm all for it. All this is to say that I'm not minimizing the importance of this service.
However, when I turned in my draft, someone asked me to "sex it up" a little bit. Um....o.k....sex it up. Right. Let me give you a picture of what this training actually looks like. It looks like a couple of people giving PowerPoint presentations while a bunch of others watch and take notes. It looks like people hunched over manuscripts for hours. At its sexiest, it looks like someone walking around a lab with a clipboard. Hot!
So, I'm not sure how to revise my piece based on this suggestion, but it did give me a chuckle anyway.
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