Why?
I was looking over an acorn squash at a store I go to sometimes, reading the label which included cooking directions and thinking “how convenient”.
A woman standing next to me expressed quite some displeasure about the label. I asked her why, and she said “I know how to cook”. I replied “so don’t pay any attention to the directions”. Her answer; “don’t be obtuse”. :smack:
For one thing, the word didn’t fit my response. For another, and more important, you don’t say “obtuse” when talking about a freakin’ squash.
So why do people resent directions? You see the same attitude about nutrition labels.
Should labels be banned to appease those of low self esteem?
Peace,
mangeorge
She’s probably annoyed because she fancies herself a great cook, and that cooking is some special skill secretly passed down from generation to generation. Printing directions on squash is allowing the unworthy culinary newbs to encroach on her turf.
Or something.
Obviously, directions are “beneath” her so she has that cooking thing whipped… Perhaps she should focus her efforts on her use of the English language.
She’s not alone. Maybe more bold than some others, but many others don’t like directions. Most just don’t try to impose thier distaste on others.
Me, I’d rather read and get it done. And my squash came out perfectly tasty.
I think one could take this any number of ways.Use of “obtuse” would have provoked request for explanation,were I sufficiently possessed of presence of mind and not thinking of what items I’d forgotten to get,where I was headed next,the interesting looking checker three aisles over,etc. But I see no reason “obtuse” and “squash” can’t be part of a healthful regimen in the same construct,nor that said utterer lacked self esteem.
In truth,the label thing bothers me,too.On my kid’s box of cereal is a picture of a bowl,apparently ceramic,filled with contents of the package floating in milk.On one side,in small letters, “serving suggestion”.
Lacking the secret intergenerational skills to know that cereal was served in a bowl with milk,I had been simply eating it out of the box or,on special occasions,smashing it and snorting through a straw.
Putting seriousness,and coherence,aside for the nonce,I find it particularly amusing when checkers ask about produce items:
“What’s this?”
“That is a turnip.See,look on the label” (pointing to small sticky)
“Right.I knew it was a member of the nip family.”
Do persons who routinely utter the term “obtuse” eat plain ol’ squash? I suspect she carried that word around in her head for a while just waiting for an opportunity to use it. She failed. My reply was not at all difficult to understand. It should have ended the discussion, as there was no appropriate counter-reply available to her. She should have changed the subject (the label) if she wished to continue talking. Maybe tell me how she would prepare an acorn squash.
As to your box of cereal, the important word in the advisory is “suggestion”. You are free to snort it to your hearts content. In fact, I may try that myself. 
In South Africa, any depiction of the food product on its packaging gets labelled “serving suggestion” - I guess to appease the idiots who think that the bowl and spoon get provided with the tub of ice cream?
I remember first seeing that advisory on the early Swanson frozen TV dinners. The picture on the box showed the contents on a plate with a drink and maybe bread next to it. And the contents did not look much like the food in the picture.
Remember the case where someone sued, I think it was Burger King, because what he was served didn’t resemble the posters? I think he lost. He was right, though.
Still, I don’t feel like an idiot because of some writing on a package. Some would have us receive our purchases in an unmarked baggie, I think. :rolleyes:
Hold stick near centre of its length. Moisten pointed end in mouth. Insert in tooth space, blunt end next to gum. Use gentle in-out motion.
also, Do not use microwave as a drying device.
The question is, who really cares? Why get so passionate about a freakin’ label?
Some shaky egos out there, eh.
Oh yeah;
“First pull up, then pull down.”
When I worked at a grocery store as a kid I remember stocking brooms that had instructions printed on the cardboard that protected the bristles before purchase.
Well, one can turn a plain old squash into an elegant soup, garnished with sour cream and green onions. I did so myself, recently. Not an acorn squash, actually, a butternut squash.
But I’ d have been amused rather than irked by a label telling me how to cook it. And maybe appreciative–I’ve tried several techniques for cooking squash, and somehow it never turns out quite the way it does when my mother cooks squash.
That’s so nasty.
I’m still trying to figure out why “obtuse” was the wrong word. Obviously she meant that you were too dimwitted to know why directions on a squash were offensive, and she felt slighted by your lack of sensitivity in understanding her (unarticulated) position. “Obtuse: …b. Characterized by a lack of intelligence or sensitivity:”
She was *wrong *in her assessment of your intelligence (I think), of course. But she used the word correctly, didn’t she?
RE: directions on produce. I like 'em. I don’t often use 'em, but I like ‘em. But then again, I’m one of those weirdos who’s always picking up unfamiliar produce and sticking it into my cart on a whim and a prayer. Woulda been nice to have instructions on, say, a quince or a persimmon. Skin on or skin off? Eat when firm or when squishy? Sweet or bitter? Give me somethin’ to go on! Why it would be offensive, I have no idea.
More questions that the produce I buy doesn’t answer:
How big is a medium leek? (I have an idea for a tomato or an onion). How much chopped leek should I get if I chop up 5 medium leeks? When the recipe says “just the white part” does it mean to include the pale pale green or not?
(I’ve decided that the leeks I find at my local supermarket are larger with more white part than the “standard” images I find on-line. So I should have saved money and vegetable matter by buying two leeks rather than 5. But, having only cooked with leeks once or twice before, and buying them for a recipe I’d never tried before–the above mentioned squash soup–I had questions I wanted to ask my mother, but didn’t. Partly because she was traveling, and partly because if she knew the answers, I wouldn’t have needed to ask the questions. I’ve never known my mother to cook leeks.)
We didn’t eat fresh veggies when I was growing up, so when I started working as a supermarket cashier, I sometimes had to ask. I had gotten a cursory tour of the produce section and been told the names of most things, but could still get tripped up. This was before items got numbered labels, and I had to look up their code by item name.
The directions for cooking this squash seemed to me to be way too simple to be obtuse about. If she were trying to explain to me how to program a dvd player, and I wasn’t getting it, I’d have understood her using the term.
BTW; The label said to microwave the halved squash for 5-8 minutes. It was great! I’m not one to cook in a microwave, but this worked good.
Aha! Another vote for labels. 
Well,the labels aren’t going away.Most of the younger checkers don’t know produce at all,and need the label,as Gigi notes.This is baffling as I live in an area known for agricultural production,where many have home gardens.A nature aversion is suspected…were I to ask my kid if he’d played outside he would no doubt ask if that is made by Nintendo?
Anyway,just think of the money to be made by having the produce develop its own bar code on the vine.