A great new topic has begun.  This subject is about "YOUR EXPERIENCE."

Will you tell us about your experience?  Your personal experience may be good or bad.  Unless you wish your name mentioned with your experience, your identify will be withheld.

To begin this subject, a young (and pretty) lady has authored the first discourse.

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Setting aside the actual use of culinary (this term being used loosely), outcome of the abstract equation: Male + Kitchen = ???, the dynamics of that equation would certainly be more palatable than that which I encountered at the State Fair. The smell of Italian sausage merrily roasting with peppers and onions was too much to ignore, and I was drawn to a little white trailer which promised the savory treat.

A quiet, shy teenage girl took my order and turned to fetch me my change, when I got my first glance at her: The COOK! Her blackened hair stood straight up in tufts upon her head, and her eyes bulged (thyroid gland?) in my direction. She gave me a quick once-over and blasted, "The onions ain't cooked, do ya still want em?!" To which I replied, "No, then, I'll pass on the onions, but I'd still like the green peppers." She applied several peppers to the sausage on a bun, slapped it in some tin foil and thrust it at me, and I could see that the peppers, too, were raw.

I was still waiting for my beverage, when The Cook began to whip the onions and peppers around on the grill. Her stirring frenzy revealed some partially cooked peppers, which I pointed out to her. "I see some peppers that are at least partially cooked. (I know I'm really a fool for this one, but I pressed on). Could you substitute the raw ones for those??" The bulging eyes were accentuated by a glaze. "I ain't used ta takin' special orders, ya know!!" (I'm already an established fool, so I might as well make my point.)

"Well, I wouldn't really consider COOKED peppers to be a special order item on an Italian sausage sandwich, I would consider that to be STANDARD fare . . .wouldn't you?" She wheeled around, long steel tongs, raised up into the air, "Yer just LUCKY there's no LINE behind you!!! Which ones!? Point 'em out!!" To which I replied "O.k., I'll take that one, and that one, and that one. No, not THAT one, yes, yes, THAT one!" My ravenous appetite was lessened by her violent application of peppers to my hallowed roasted sausage sandwich, but regained its momentum when I turned to see another little white trailer with the words "FUNNEL CAKES" emblazoned across its side. But . . .that's another story!

Author's name withheld

How about you?  Have you ever encountered an experience you would like to relate to others?  If so, please email your experience to either the President or the Webmaster.