Although, it does make a sad sort of sense. Of course us poor people can't afford extravagances like brown sugar. So we have to get by with plain sugar that's been brownulated, a highly technical process that I'm guessing involves brown crayons and a cheese grater.
Do not use it to make tapioca.
Do not use it to make pink lemonade.
I have a deep-seated terror of any food that wasn't already regular part of my diet by age six. And while, given the infinite nature of the human psyche, it may never be truly possible to uncover the deep-seated reason for my fears, if I had to take a guess, it would be 'My mom worked nights.'
So until the age of 14 or 15, my dad was solely responsible for the evening meal. And while I'm sure he meant well, he is a guy, and as such, his philosophy towards mealtime was 'as long as you don't have scurvy, I'm doing my job.'
Not surprisingly, I grew up on a diet of exclusively microwavable foods made up of no more than three ingredients total. With salt and pepper counting as one each.
Even now that I'm a mature, tax-paying, college educated adult, my diet consists of basically three groups: the Death Starch Foods (bread, pasta, giant dandruff-style mashed potato flakes, violently neon orange crackers, etc.) the Freeze-Pop group, and Comedy Food, which is not, in fact, for eating.
And since I get such entertainment out of this last group, I've decided to share my experiences with you, the bored nerd trying to avoid work. It's the least I can do.
