Don’t get me started on the “spritz on” salad dressing. This makes me bizarrely, irrationally angry when I see those commercials. I can’t really decide why it enrages me. Maybe it’s because it I see it as a sign of how messed up our relationship to food has become on a large scale - are people now so afraid of a little oil & vinegar that you can only use a tiny aerosolizable (sure, that’s a perfectly cromulent word) amount?
After a long day motorcycling through the Midwest, my best friend stopped at a roadhouse in Iowa. “Lucky for me,” he thought because he saw favorite salad dressing, bleu cheese, on the menu. He took a bite of the salad and knew something was wrong. The waitress told him their blue cheese dressing is made from cottage cheese and mayonnaise.
That tops the time I stopped at an ancient drive-in in Sedalia, MO, after a hot day at the state fair and asked for a lemonade to go with the gooberburger. First sip, spit take. The lemonade was carbonated! The waitress couldn’t tell me the difference between the lemonade I drank and the lemon soda, both of which are listed on the menu. Thankfully the Casey’s down the road had a bottle of plain water I could drink on the drive back upstate.
Joining the digression of opinions of diet foods, I agree, just eat smaller portions of tasty regular food. I lost a bit of weight that way. People were dejected when I told 'em that I had no secret, just ate less and exercised more. But I’m gobsmacked by spray-on salad dressing. Google better tell me what it is and what the advantages of spraying salad dressing are. “Wouldn’t the spices get caught in the nozzle?” I ask rhetorically as I head over to Googleland.
I actually like mashed cauliflower. It doesn’t taste anything like potatoes, but it is tasty. I think the secret is to not mash it completely, but leave a little texture in there. Then again, I prefer slightly chunkier mashed potatoes too.
Also, I don’t pretend that veggie burgers are meat. They’re made of veggies (and other processed frankensoy). Even before going veggie, sometimes I wanted a burger, and sometimes a veggie burger. Also, some of the products designed to taste like real meat (I’m looking at you, Boca Italian sausage!) are so very creepily similar to meat, that I don’t really enjoy eating them. They’re tasty, but they feel JUST like meat.
Same. It’s been long enough since eating meat for me that I’m pretty easily fooled, and some of those meat analogs are just way too close for comfort. If I have to willfully remind myself between each bite that I’m not eating meat, I’d rather choose something else.
I tried to get my MIL interested in quality ingredients several decades ago and took her to a top-notch butcher shop and pointed out the excellent porterhouse steak they had, at a reasonable price. The next week she thanked me. “I fried it in the pan, and then added some water and cooked it for a half hour. It was very good. Soft.” Yeah, I bet it was soft. Pot-roasted porterhouse. A sin.
Yikes! I’d rather have cottage “bleu” cheese dressing.
But soft, really? I once tried to thaw a frozen steak, but it was still hard as a rock (and the only thing to eat in the house). So I put some water in the pan to help it along.
Shoe leather. Really terrible. The International Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Steak beat the crap out of me that night.
I can’t stand the sweet taste of Miracle Whip, but the nutritional profile is better than mayonnaise. From the Kraft Foods web site, Miracle Whip has 40 calories (30 from fat) per serving, versus 100 calories (all from fat) for Kraft Real Mayonnaise. There’s no hydrogenated fats in the ingredient list for either product, so when the label says “no transfats” it’s not a matter of “less than 0.5g/serving” as with many products.
Though not meant to be diet food, per se, but I had roommates who would make “nachos” with Velveeta and boiled hamburger meat. The smell would creep into every inch of the apartment. Uuuuuggglggh.