Conquering the Holidays: Part IV (Return of the Co-Workers)

Okay kids, we've seen the worst, and it's all downhill from here on out. The fine art of soda-making has long dedicated itself to sweetness and fruity flavours. How could we possibly go wrong with the sweet sauce and dessert? Yeah, I didn't know either.



Have I mentioned lately how much I love my co-worker, Miss Lead Cashier Carrie? Well, I do. She is a shining, shining star. She is for many different reasons of course, but the one I point out today is her absolute dedication to a cause, Even if that cause is the consummation of a Holiday Pack of Jones Soda. After putting her through the hell of Wild Herb Stuffing, I decided to make it up to her by bringing in the first item on the dessert menu.

STAGE FOUR: Cranberry Sauce with Orange Zest



Wow, it looks a little like Jonestown's magic Flavor-aid when you pose it like that, doesn't it? What happy coincidence! But we weren't thinking about the possibility of cyanide when we cracked open the bottle. The most we were concerned with was whether or not we'd even be able to get it far enough past our throats to do any damage.



Now, we were just about to close up shop when who should show up at the door but the Blaster to Carrie's Master, boyfriend Richard! How could we not pull him into our liquified post-apocalyptic tasty treats? Lucky him!



Things were going well. Very well. Better than we'd expected, and that's considering that we didn't think it possible for anyone to screw up cranberry juice. We couldn't stall much longer to find out if that theory was correct. It was time to go for the gusto, and enter the flavour Thunderdome.



Success? Was it possible?! Or was the soda massacre merely time-delayed? There was only one way to find out, as we gulped it down and breathed. What did the others have to say?



And as for me?



Well, I liked it! I liked it! I'd even go so far as to say I LIKED it! (Hey now, love is a strong word when it comes to caffeine-free non-cola soda.) I liked it so much that I sealed it back up, took it home, made myself a sandwich, and finished the whole damn bottle. A week ago it seemed impossible, but believe it or not we found a soda in the bunch that has made the whole ordeal worthwhile. I don't know if it's quite as good as Vanilla Cola, but if Jones sold this on its own, I'd probably buy it. Just so long as it isn't laced with any cyanide. That's a deal breaker.

Join me tomorrow, when I bring you the exciting conclusion: Dessert at the End of the Universe!

Conquering the Holidays: Part III (The Student Becomes the Teacher)

Come and sit beside the fire, child, and let me tell you a story.



Once upon a time, there was a little girl who used to stay with her grandparents. "Here, drink this!" her grandfather would say."It's delicious!" So she would tip the glass back with both hands, and splutter as the juice from the bottom of a Vlasic dill pickle jar spilled down her throat. "What?" her grandfather would say as she peered, squinting and bewildered, into the bottom of the glass. "It's good! It puts hair on your chest!"

Before the child had a chance to explain that she didn't think she really wanted any hair on her chest, her grandmother would smack the old man away, chiding "Don't do that to the poor thing, viejito! Now come on, both of you, it's time for dinner! I've made nopales!" and the child's eyes would fill with bleak desperation.

But all was not as hopeless as it seemed. Some two decades later, she'd have the chance to pay it back.



(Jesus, look at that paleness! I need to get out more.)

Originally I was going to go easy on them. Cranberry sauce, perhaps. Much to my surprise, everyone in the house shouted "Don't be boring! Bring out the brussels sprouts!!!" Who was I to argue?

STAGE THREE: Brussels Sprouts with Prosciutto

The wine list recommended a sweet and spicy chardonnay to go with the brussels sprouts flavor. My dad suggested (not completely joking) we substitute a stiff shot of whiskey. I'd just removed the scotch from the cabinet when my grandpa waved it off and insisted that he didn't need a chaser. I refilled his full cup of coffee, just in case.



I've got to admit, this wasn't one of the more promising starts. I almost abandoned ship immediately and retreated to the cranberry soda. I really like cranberries, you know. Good for the digestive system and all that.



But sometimes you just have to stick with it, and you know what? You never know. It just might turn out better than you'd expected.



I learned two very important things tonight. First, I learned that my grandfather wasn't kidding when he said he liked the taste of pickle vinegar straight-up. Second, I learned that he's quite possibly insane. This is backed by the fact that he also honestly likes brussels sprouts, although he mitigated that the soda didn't actually taste anything like them. The good thing is that I can write to Jones Soda Inc. and tell them that I've found the one person on earth who actually enjoys their Sprout soda.

Of course, once he gave it the green light, my grandma wanted to get in on the action, if only to prove him wrong.



Now that I had two conflicting opinions, I was ready to try it out for myself. (Even though just the smell wafting through the living room made me feel faint.) Little did I know how truly terrifying it would be.



It really didn't get much better. I didn't actually hurl, but let's just say it was a viable option.



It's the prosciutto that really sticks. As I sit here, hours later--awash in water, milk, soda, Haribo sour gummy snacks, and cool mint Listerine--it's the taste of the salted ham that stays behind. I have a feeling it will be there in the morning too, like an old and loyal mortal enemy.* The ghost of every chunk of cactus I ever stored in my cheek and spat into my napkin has reared its ugly spectral head tonight and smote me across the tongue.

But you know what? I think it was still better than the turkey and gravy flavour.

Dear god, I can't wait for the dessert menu.

*-- 9AM, the next day: It's true. Oh god, it's true.

Conquering the Holidays: Part II (Making Work Interesting)

I'm a "sales associate" (read: cashier doormat) at an art-slash-home decor store. We've been down in sales lately, and work is slow-slow-slow. Luckily for me, I always come prepared to fight the boredom.



Prepared with #2 on my list of holiday sodas, that is! At least yesterday I was. As soon as the doors were closed and locked last night, I brought it forth from the break room refrigerator in all its glory.

STAGE TWO: Wild Herb Stuffing

The wine list recommended a sparkling zinfandel to accompany the stuffing, but it's work and I'm not about to lose my job for Holiay Soda, so I improvised by pairing it with a Bacon Turkey Bravo sandwich (to remind the stuffing of its roots) and a Sierra Mist/Mountain Dew fountain blend from Panera. I think that did the job just fine.



The good thing about doing this at work is that I can recruit volunteers. Carrie was already accomplice to the time I decided to concoct Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters out of gin and Japanese sports drink, so she was game.



We were somewhat reassured. It looked normal. Until we opened the bottle, that is.



Hmm. But still, vile masochistic candy is better than turkey, right guys? Right? RIGHT!?



Hmmmmmm.... still tolerable though, in the sense that raw celery is tolerable. Now swallow.



Ack!!!! At least we didn't need hard alcohol to wash the taste away. That fact alone ranks this flavour above that of the turkey. Still, that's not saying much. Not saying much at all.



Carrie is such a good sport! I love her to death.

Tonight I closed shop with her again, and I thought about bringing the cranberry-sauce-flavored soda to make amends, but then I remembered something potentially even more wonderful: relatives might be coming to visit tomorrow. I hope my grandmother's feeling intrepid! STAY TUNED!

Conquering the Holidays: Part I (a.k.a. Hello, internets!)

Hellooooooooooooooo internet!

It's about time I started a real blog, without the words "live" or "dead" or "journal" or "myspace" attached to them. Not that this is going to be another diary, per se. This will be the 'zine I never had. Or, should I say, am about to have. Hence, the name, taken from my one-issue-run 'zine from high school. Comics, stories, and general dorkiness, all here, and all in one convenient package. It's a little rough around the edges right now -- I apologize. I'm still trying to figure this out.

BUT FIRST! I'm on a mission from the god of masochism and I'm taking you all with me, on a wild adventure through the mysterious gastronomical delights of novelty soda. Yes, I've read the reviews. I've been forewarned. But they were calling to me, calling with their fancy packaging and their fizzy pretty colors and their proceeds going to charity. So in the interest of science and ten dollars, I had no choice but to buy my very own Limited Edition 2005 Jones Soda Holiday Pack box.



OH, SNAP!

Now, once you own one of these kinds of things, there's really nothing left to do except consume it on the internet and post about it at your own expense, so today I busted out the box and my continuous-shot camera and got down to business. I thought about what the first thing I tear into is when I sit down for Thanksgiving dinner, and the obvious answer was: the turkey. Therefore, this is what I've started with.

STAGE ONE: TURKEY AND GRAVY SODA

The fascinating thing is that they supply you with a wine list. Jones Soda Inc. recommended a rich pinot noir to compliment the lighter meat flavor of their Turkey and Gravy soda. Who was I to argue?



That, folks, is the Dinner of Champions. I threw that sucker in the freezer for fifteen minutes, just to get it nice and properly chilled. I know that you eat regular turkey hot, but something about the thought of hot turkey soda just made my stomach churn right then and there -- I have no idea why -- so I decided to go with the more familiar frosty cold soda.



It didn't explode when I opened it, nor did my face melt off á la Raiders of the Lost Ark. So, I pressed on.



Promising! A new favorite, perhaps?



Okay, okay, but as long as you hold it in your mouth, swish it around for appreciation, and then spit it out, it's tolerable. So I did that a couple times. But to really really really get the flavor of something, you have to swallow.



Dear God, what have I done? And this is only just the beginning. I still have four more flavors to get through, and I'm going to be a good sport and do them all. Stay tuned for next time, when I go head-to-head with Wild Herb Stuffing!