Blue Flavor

I would cringe every time I heard it.

Mr. N. The Boss. The Owner of the little college-town pizza joint that I occasionally managed would, at times, wander from the closet-like office to help behind the bar.

Being a pizza place in Southern California, we sold great quantities of embarrassingly bad beer. Miller... Bud... Michelob... You get the picture.

When Mr. N. was behind the bar, however, he would always ask, in his own friendly way, "So, what flavor of beer would you like?" Not "What type of beer," or even "Which beer." No, he would ask "What flavor." Which, considering our selection, was limited to varying shades of horse piss.

Likewise, it rubs me the wrong way when someone identifies an artificial flavor by it's color. For instance instead of saying that they would like a grape-flavored sucker, someone might say, I'd like a purple-flavored sucker. And, while most artificially-grape-flavored foods do taste more akin to purple than actual grape, the flavors do possess nominal titles.

This is no less true for Jell-O. Now, first, I have ranted about THIS BEFORE. Second, that is not going to stop me from ranting about it again. And third, I was reminded of all of this, this morning during breakfast.

All but the boy, who still gets the boob, were hungry. I haven't been to the store recently for any type of responsible grocery shopping, and breakfast supplies were low. So, in full family fashion, we packed up and journeyed to Stuffies to gorge ourselves on the cheap breakfast buffet.

We swept through like a tot-laden tornado, juice, eggs and yogurt trailing in true Hansel-&-Gretel style behind us. Tray heavy and loaded, the girl tugging at my pant leg, I followed a few steps behind the missus, who was handling the bobbing boy.

There was one final food station to pass. The last outpost of buffet goodness before setting up base camp in a booth. This is where they keep the pudding. This where they chill the fresh fruit. This is where I would find the Jell-O.

Jell-O, I believe, is a perfect food. Well, actually, it's not really food at all, more of an artificially flavored and colored gelatinous farm by-product. By I digress...

I'm a Grade-A #1 sucker for Jell-O. I love it. I love everything about it. However, as with most of these lame food-related blog posts, there are rules. And here they are:

Jell-O Rule #1: The only reasonable colors for Jell-O are Red and Green. Not yellow, orange, pink, or purple. Most certainly, by god, Jell-O should never be blue, or any shade thereof whatsoever.

Caveat to Rule #1: The red Jell-O must be artificial cherry flavored. Green must be artificial lime. No exceptions. These are the only two acceptable forms of Jell-O.

Jell-O Rule #2: Do not put shit in the Jell-O. No grapes, no pineapple, no carrots, and in the name of all things holy, no cottage cheese.

And so we approached the Jell-O station at Stuffies, the missus running point just a few paces ahead. She knew that I was apprehensive of the Jell-O. She knows the thing I have about it. She sensed the tension and darted forward ahead of me, turning quickly with a concerned look...

"No, It's no good." She warned, turning herself bravely between me and the Jell-o.

I stopped, disheartened. "What, then?" I asked, fearing the answer.

"Don't look," she warned, "It will only make you mad."

"It's not..."

"Yes," she confirmed, "The Jell-O, it's blue."