When I buy a bottle or can of soda, energy drink, juice, whatever, I do notice the little icon down there telling me how many calories I’m about to ingest. Sometimes, it will even impact what I end up deciding to purchase. Once I’ve purchased my beverage of choice, that’s when I usually notice the smaller print saying, “XXX calories per serving”…and then on the back it will say something ridiculous like, “approximately 3.7 servings per can/bottle”. Really? I’m not going to drink only a little of this tiny bottle and save the rest for later; I’m certainly not going to do that with a can. If the beverage is carbonated, its a particularly bad idea. I don’t drink Pepsi as everyone knows that once you open a Pepsi, it has an approximate carbonation life of 4 seconds before going flat, but even I know that putting a can of carbonated soda back in the refrigerator is a bad idea. No, when I buy a bottle or can, I’m going to drink all of it. Be a hero and tell me how many calories are in there in its entirety because I’m going to drink it all in one go.
The other day I went to the cafeteria to get my once in a while ham and bacon omelet. When I got there, they had “updated” everything. Instead of talking to someone to make your order, you use a little touch screen kiosk to send it back to the grill. That way, you don’t have to actually talk to someone I guess. Yay, technology.
I decided to go ahead and give it a try. I found that they still offered omelets, so I clicked on the omelet to customize it. They had egg whites, good. Next step, meat. Where is the ham and bacon…ham and bacon…ham and bacon? No ham or bacon. No piggy meats at all. Chicken sausage? No ham? No bacon? Wait, what does that say…turkey bacon?
There is no such thing as turkey bacon. It is either turkey or it is bacon. We can make technological advances so we don’t ever need to talk to someone face to face but I’m pretty sure we haven’t figured out how to cross-breed a turkey with a pig. Turkey bacon is not bacon in any way. It is dried out, wooden turkey flesh made to resemble a sad, sick looking strip of bacon. Call it something else, turkey flat slabs or whatever…they have turkey jerky, and that’s okay…at least you know what it is. Calling something turkey bacon makes you think it could maybe taste a little like bacon, but no. I call you a liar. Turkey bacon is an abomination, a sick twisted farce of everything that makes breakfast worth eating.
I leave you with this. If you asked for a ham sandwich and someone slipped you a turkey sandwich, how would you feel? Betrayed? Angry? What if the person who glibly handed off a turkey sandwich then told you that turkey is healthier for you or that it tastes pretty much the same? I rest my case.