I can't have a salad without at least 15 shakes of black pepper. So based on that fact alone, I'm going to need the shakers on the table. I've only dined at one or two restaurants in my life who have that little rule of thumb and just knowing I couldn't have those little shakers made me want them ... no, NEED them desperately. Even if the food actually was perfect to the pallet, I didn't know it. My taste buds were hyperventilating for the granules and peppercorns. I almost had to run in the kitchen and shock my tongue back to life using the S&P shakers like those chest paddles for your heart.
I mean business when it comes to salt and pepper, and I don't like it when people take them away from me. It's a form of cruel and unusual punishment. What did I ever to do deserve that?
Proof that S&P is such a big part of my culinary life: Husby and I dressed up like them for our very first married Halloween. Such silly youngsters.
Looking back on it, we should have used colanders for hats. Oh well. You win some, you lose some. I just can't get over the fact I was brave enough to wear white sweats. I mean, first there are sweats. Uggo. Then there are WHITE sweats. Yike-a-RAMA.
Anything for my devout devotion to the trusty salt and pepper shakers.
Shoop, shoop ba-doop.
Mysteriously, I can't get that song out of my head as I write this post. Hmmm.
Anyone else out there a serious S&P lover like me? Ever dined at a place that confiscates them? Did it make you want to throw something across the room? I'mana start carrying them in my purse. Better safe than sorry! :)