Oy!

[Satzaroo]

The other day, my wife made lunch for us and the grandchildren. The main course was soy crumble meal starters combined with various plain veggies. I always enjoy these unexciting but nutritious crumbles--whether I prepare them or my wife does--but the meal was awfully spicy, so much so that the kids ate very little of it. My palate was burning, but I suffered through the ordeal, not wanting to embarrass my wife or have her harass me for complaining in public. When we were alone, however, I did mention that the food was too strongly seasoned. She had no explanation; I knew, well at least I hoped, that she wasn't trying to torment my taste buds. She must have inadvertently added some extra flavorings. Tonight, after my wife was elsewhere, I heated up a new package of crumbles with a slight amount of onion and garlic powder, a smidgen of salt, and unseasoned noodles. Damn! The stuff was as ferocious as the last time, eating away at the roof of my mouth. Because I hate to waste food, I finished all of it, all the while regretting that I didn't dine out as I had earlier intended.

I figured that Morningstar must have changed its recipe, taking the joy out of my soy. Dejected, I rummaged in the freezer to see how many new and unimproved meal-starter crumbles remained. I immediately found four of the six packages that I had recently purchased. Front and back, they were identical to the crumbles that I was used to. So what was the origin of the mystery ingredient that I found so distasteful? That nagging (and gagging) question was soon resolved when I examined the last two crumble packages. At the bottom of the front side were the words "sausage style"; otherwise the layout was the same as in the original crumbles. Then I checked the ingredients listed on the back and eventually found the culprit: chicory root! That was the root of the problem.

No, actually, I am to blame. Instead of scrutinizing the labels of the meal starters, I latched onto a bunch of them that looked alike--crumbles are crumbles are crumbles, right? Not anymore. No matter what other kinds of crumbles Morningstar has in its meatless hopper, I will ferret out the original ones-- the real McCoy or, should I say, the real McSoy.