Archive for the fiction Category

Arbor Day

Posted in fiction, food with tags , , , , , on March 23, 2007 by hoagiefest 2020

Annie Pitts cuffed her right hand to her husband Leroy’s left hand. Then she did the same, except with the opposite hands.

“Nobody else is here.” Leroy’s face was pressed on the bark.

“They’ll be here,” Annie replied. She could not see Leroy.

“It’s raining.”

“So?” Annie’s face was not pressed on bark.

“So they don’t cut down trees when it’s raining.”

The rain got harder.

“None of your friends are here either,” Leroy said.

“They’ll be here.”

“It’s raining.” Leroy was wet. “Where are the keys?”

“In my pocket.”

“Give me the keys.”

“Leroy.”

“Give me the keys.”

“Leroy.”

“May I please have the keys?”

Annie couldn’t reach her pocket. “You have to bring your arms down, Leroy.”

“I can’t get them down any further, Annie dear. There’s a big freaking branch right here.

There was a big freaking branch right there.

“Well I can’t reach my pockets, Leroy.”

“Is it murder to break off the branch?”

“Leroy! It’s Arbor Day!”

“Well that’s just great.” Leroy shook his arm like mad, and the chain banged against the tree branch. The cuff tightened and his wrist began to bleed. “Well that’s just great.”

“Maybe if I get on top of it I could reach my pocket.”

“Do it.”

Annie and Leroy sidled around the tree until Leroy’s shoulder bumped into the branch.

“Wrong way,” Leroy said.

They two-stepped the other way until Annie’s face was pressed against the branch.

“How am I gonna get up there?”

“Try to kick your leg up there,” Leroy said. “Then I’ll just keep going counter-clockwise and the cuffs will pull you up.”

“My arm will fall off!”

Leroy did not respond. Annie sighed and started kicking. She didn’t even come close. After five minutes she stopped.

“Well,” she said, “we’re just going to have to wait for the rest of them to get here.”

“It’s raining,” Leroy said.


“We really ripped that fucker out by the roots, didn’t we?” Leroy was dry.

Annie did not look amused.

Leroy continued laughing as he took a bite out of a block of smoked cheese shaped like a pig. “Right by the roots.”

“You’re disgusting,” Annie said. Her right arm was in a pale green cast that matched the wall perfectly.

Leroy laughed harder and chewed up cheese mush came out of his nose. He pulled a napkin from his lap and wiped his face, smearing the cheese across his lip like a mustache.

“We were saving the world and we ended up destroying precious life!” Annie wiped bits of smoked cheese pig from her blouse with her good hand.

“It was a damn tree, Annie!” Leroy accidentally bit the inside of his lip. “They were just going to cut it down anyway.” He washed the blood and cheese from his mouth with a swig of whole milk.

“The taste is completely different from a gummy bear, yet somehow familiar”

Posted in fiction with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 26, 2007 by hoagiefest 2020

Self-Inflicted

Posted in fiction, food with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 2, 2005 by hoagiefest 2020

THE BEEFSTEAK CHRONICLES: One if by land, two if by BEEFSTEAK

Posted in fiction, food with tags , , , , , , on October 4, 2004 by hoagiefest 2020

For the past five days, I’ve felt like a new mother, getting rid of that ten pound bulge in her stomach for the first time in nine months. This mission, Operation Beefsteak, was my offspring, the combination of my hard work and semen. After Chef Trey broke the news to me gently and erotically last Wednesday, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t eat; I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even touch myself at night. Postpartum depression had set in. I realized I would have nothing to bitch about anymore. Today was to be…THE DAY OF BEEFSTEAK!

Or was it?

As soon as I arrived to dinner, I sprinted to the line of tasty treats. It announced the arrival of Beefsteak on the menu, although the name had been slightly changed to protect the innocent. “Breaded Beef Steak,” the menu proclaimed in bold letters. Simultaneously my stomach both grumbled and dropped. I would behold the holy grail of dinner meats–Beefsteak. However, with a bite of the mystery meat, my mission would come to an end.

OR WOULD IT?

As I got closer to the bundle of hairnet and frump I like to call a lunchlady, something struck me as odd. There was no Beefsteak to be seen. “Perhaps,” I thought to myself, “perhaps they are keeping the Beefsteak in a seperate compartment for ultimate flavor explosion.” And then I popped the quesion.

Or did I?

Could I have Beefsteak?” I asked the grey-haired maven of the food service industry. And then from the heavens, or perhaps the smoke-scarred throat of the cafeteria worker, came a gravelly voice that put my day in a spin. “We don’t have any of that today.

OR DO THEY?

In the end, I finally realized what mattered most in this world. I had been selfishly worrying about the loss of great articles at the expense of Beefsteak. I immediately became ashamed of myself. What mattered most was Beefsteak, and perhaps my shenanigans ruined that for everyone. The evil consulate of A.B.O.L.I.S.H. got everyone’s hope up for Beefsteak, and when they took it away, they sucked the pain of the masses into their massive bloated guts with a crazystraw. The masses would surely be broken up about this.

OR WOULD THEY????!?!??!?!?!!?!?!?!

Chef Trey waited outside the kitchen with a bloody smock over his white tunic to hear the moans of dispair from the students.. “That’s a noise,” grinned Chef Trey, “that I simply must hear!” So he paused. And Chef Trey put a hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low, then it started to grow. But the sound wasn’t sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn’t be so! But it WAS merry! VERY! He stared down at Kriner Diner! Chef Trey popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise! Every student in Kriner, the tall and the small, Was singing without any Beefsteak at all! He HADN’T stopped Beefsteak from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other, it came just the same! And Chef Trey, with his club feet ice-cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling: “How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!” And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore. Then Chef Trey thought of something he hadn’t before! “Maybe Beefsteak,” he thought, “doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Beefsteak…perhaps…means a little bit more!

And what happened then…? Well…in Kriner they say that Chef Trey’s small heart grew three sizes that day! And the minute his heart didn’t feel quite so tight, he whizzed with his load through the bright morning light. And he brought back the toys! And the sweet apple cake! And he, he himself, Chef Trey carved the Beefsteak!

OR DID HE?

Okay, so none of those last few paragraphs were true. No Beefsteak today, despite the promises of those evil bastards at A.B.O.L.I.S.H. Our National Beefsteak Warning is flatlining. This will be continued.

Until then, all hope for future Beefsteak has faded…

OR HAS IT?

FIN

THE BEEFSTEAK CHRONICLES: A BEEFSTEAK in the hand is worth two in the bush.

Posted in fiction, food with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 29, 2004 by hoagiefest 2020

THE BEEFSTEAK CHRONICLES: Why are there so many songs about BEEFSTEAK?

Posted in fiction, food with tags , , , , , , , , on September 28, 2004 by hoagiefest 2020

A conspiracy is afoot.

I’ve received a response to my simple, innocent suggestion. That suggestion? Bring on the Beefsteak! Unfortunately, the dining hall staff decided to play dumb. To recap, here is my original message.

Dear Kriner Staff:

It would be much appreciated if you could make Beefsteak a permanent menu fixture.

I then proceeded to sign it with the clever alias “Nick Sallade.” The perfect crime!

Today I arrived at the dining hall, and went to the board in my utter excitement for Beefsteak. Apparently our University can neither confirm nor deny the existence of Beefsteak. Keep in mind that my clever alias is Nick Sallade.

Nick-

I’m not sure exactly what you’re talking about–let me know, thanks.

-Chef Trey

So now the nameless conspiracy has a face, and the faceless conspiracy has a name! Chef Trey! The fly in my ointment! The bee in my bonnet! The non-marshmallows in my Lucky Charms! In my ire, I decided to elaborate to this new villain, this phantom menace, about the wonders and joys of Beefsteak.

This is my response to the dastardly dastard, approximately.

Dear Chef Trey,

I am a Beefsteak fanatic. Beefsteak is the golden meat treat that’s fun to eat. I have experienced Beefsteak here before, but only on rare occasions.

Love,
Nick Sallade

Tomorrow is another day, and hopefully the clever fiend will reply to my message. Mine is a message of peace. A message of harmony. A message of Beefsteak.

Until then, the current outlook is dire.

THE BEEFSTEAK CHRONICLES: Wherefore art thou BEEFSTEAK?

Posted in fiction, food with tags , , , , , on September 27, 2004 by hoagiefest 2020

Phase one of Operation Beefsteak is complete.

That’s right, Operation Beefsteak.

Ever since last year, I have been infatuated with the cut of meat mysteriously called “Beefsteak” at our school’s dining halls. The name itself is pretty bizarre–if you have a cut of beef, it’s a steak. If you order something called steak, you’ll be receiving a cut of beef. Now if the mystery meat in question were a chicken steak, which I’ve seen on menus, the prefix would be understandable, even necessary. The holy name of Beefsteak, however, is downright ridiculous and redundant.

As far as the senses go, Beefsteak is a rare and exotic treat. Aesthetically bearing an eerie similarity to “country fried steak,” it is obvious that this cutlet has been fried in a delicious, golden-brown batter. When biting into a piece of Beefsteak, however, all similarities to country fried steak go right out the window. Beefsteak is a flavor adventure that needs to be experienced to be believed. So many adjectives are running through my brain right now to describe beefsteak, and not a one will make sense to you unless you’ve tried it. Here are some of these adjectives, in order of vividness and chronological recall. Smooth. Tasty. Melty. Beefy. Steaky. Popsicles. Delicious. You will have to trust my word of honor that each and every one of these words embodies the flavor and spirit of Beefsteak.

And this brings us to Operation Beefsteak. I’ve only had the exquisite pleasure of eating Beefsteak once, and it was in my first semester of Freshman year. It is high time that change come a-knocking on the glass doors of our dining establishments. Today began a campaign that was long in the making. Bring back Beefsteak, Dining Services, and make it often.

DAY ONE:

Today was a preemptive strike on the other side’s home front. I posted a comment on the comment board that is to be taken very seriously. This is a transcription of the comment.

Dear Kriner Staff:

It would be much appreciated if you could make Beefsteak a permanent menu fixture.

Tomorrow is the big day, the day when I see what their response is. It will be posted on the board when Nick and I go in for lunch.

If my suggestion is met with indifference, disdain, or anger, it is time for true action to be taken. I will write an increasingly inventive series of letters to the Dining Staff to promote Beefsteak Awareness on campus.

Some suggestions that I will use:

  • The National Beefsteak Alert must be posted on every door in the dining halls. One example is this.
  • A fun-filled “Fact or Fiction?” chart about Beefsteak. Here is an example.

    FICTION: Beefsteak is bad for you.
    FACT: Beefsteak is a victimless crime.

  • Obviously this is a hot button topic here on campus. More to come as this develops.