We know you got yerself a lotta options when it comes to the food you shove down your gullet to power your body. But you don’t wanna fill up on candy corn and peanut butter cups like a dang baby! That’s why, each week, we’re gonna take a close look at one piece of food — just one, so as to not overload yer little peabrain there — and tell you if’n it’s worthy of bein’ consumed by a real tough adult or if’n it ain’t. This here is MOUTHFUL, where we teach you how to eat like a goddamn adult. And this week, we’re talkin’ chips and salsa, so open up.
Everybody serves chips an’ salsa at their every gatherin’, whether they be holdin’ a baby shower or a Super Bowl party or an Irish funeral for the drinkinest man in town. But lemme ask you this — are you ever excited to be eatin’ chips an’ salsa? I can get up for chips an’ cheese, chips an’ taco meat, hell, even chips an’ a FINE bean dip, but chips an’ salsa? It’s always just sorta there, like that no good sheriff who gets quakin’ in his boots whenever bandits roll into our fair community and has to come to me so’s I can run them blackhats outta town.
And so unless yer gonna get ahold of the world’s ABSOLUTE FINEST salsa, crafted by, I dunno, Buddhist monks livin’ up in a mountain, I’m gonna ask you a question — what if we just got rid of the dang salsa?
The problem with chips and salsa is that chips ain’t good enough to stand on they own, and the salsa is just there to gussy ’em up. But bein’ an adult means dealin’ with your problems, not slappin’ a band-aide on ’em and pretendin’ they ain’t there. So let’s be adults about this and figure out a way to make chips stand on they own. Let’s start here — how did folks enjoy chips before salsa was invented in The Year of Our Lord 1979? (I would guess — I ain’t got time fer no fancy book lookin’ up.) For the answer to that, I’m gonna think about my parents, two of the roughest, toughest adults I ever did meet.
I know fer a fact my pa loved to eat chips, but like any real man, he grew his corn himself, bashed it into a paste with his fist, and put it in a skillet over the fire he made whenever ma done made him sleep outside because lookin’ at him was makin’ her feel disgusted (which was most nights). That corn mash got real hot and real burnt, but it came out thick and fine — the perfect single tortilla chip.
Did my pa put salt on that tortilla chip? HECKIN’ NO HE DID NOT! The only thing salt adds to anything is flavor, and what’s flavor getcha? A little jolt of joy fer the half second yer eatin’ on a food? I SPIT ON THAT WEAK CRAP. Just eat the dang food the way it comes! Even babies don’t put salt on the bottles or nipples from which they enjoy they milk! Are you sayin’ yer not as tough as a baby?
THE VERDICT: If you like chips, eat chips! If you don’t like chips, don’t eat chips! But these half-measures ain’t doin’ nobody no good — dippin’ chips in salsa is an act of childish fear; the type of behavior displayed by those too afraid to pay their student loans or get an MRI when they get hurt playin’ football.
Are you gonna throw out all that salsa you got sittin’ in yer fridge, or are you gonna continue not to confront the challenges life presents us all? Lemme know on Twitter, ya hear?