Mini-peppers

I’ve been seeing these adorable little sweet peppers in the grocery stores lately. I hadn’t bought them because they’re quite pricey —  $4.99 to $5.99 for a 681 gram (1.5 lb.) bin, depending on the store. That’s more than regular sweet bell peppers, which I refuse to buy once they go over $3.99 a pound.

pop a pepper!

But they’re so adorable! So what the heck, I bought some on Sunday.

They’re the size of jalapeño peppers, but are less fleshy and are not hot. But neither are they as sweet as regular bell peppers (and again, not as fleshy). So what are they, and what does one do with them?

Eating them raw, they have just the slightest hint — more like a memory — of peppery hotness and something of a jalapeño flavor, but not quite. In other words, I think they’re some kind of jalapeño hybrid that is neither one thing nor the other. There’s nothing wrong with hot peppers, and sweet peppers are excellent too. With these guys you get neither the hot nor the sweet, so what’s the point?

They’re not completely useless. They have a nice crunchy texture, and you can cut them up and put them in a salad. But if you’re going to cut them up, why not just pay less and get a red bell pepper?

I tried roasting a couple of them, but since the flesh is quite thin they didn’t roast very well (although I may have left them in the oven too long). It seems like the best thing about these peppers is their looks. They’re decorative.

I don’t regret buying them. It was only five bucks after all, and they were nice in last night’s salad and were fun to eat whole next to a sandwich at lunchtime. But I doubt I will buy them again unless I need something colorful for a crudité plate.

Note: Have you taken the Blork Blog survey? If not, please do so. It’s quick and anonymous. (Survey closed.)

Blork Blog: The Survey

While plugging away at this blog over the past five years, I periodically fall into a bit of a slump where I feel like the whole thing is a big waste of time, or that I’m not writing very well, or that I’m just shouting into an empty canyon. It’s true that I get a lot of feedback on specific posts by way of comments, but I still sometimes find myself somewhat adrift when it comes to the whole question of "why?" or at least "why continue?"

The blog has evolved a bit since its launch, but it hasn’t seen any radical changes. Lately I’ve been wondering if I consider a change of course. To help me decide — and also just because I’d like some general feedback — I’ve created a very short Zoomerang survey. I’m hoping the results (assuming, of course, that there will be results) will give me an idea of what people like or dislike about this blog.

Please take the survey. (It opens in a new window.) It’s very short — eight multiple-choice questions. It should take only one or two minutes, and is anonymous.

Update: As of March 6, 2006, the survey is closed. Thanks to the 100 people to took the survey!

Another Kind of Tuna Salad

I like a good tuna salad sandwich. Unfortunately, a good tuna sandwich is hard to find, as most restaurants seem to think that tuna salad consists of (a) cheap, undrained flaked tuna, and (b) a lake of mayonnaise.

Forget that. Make it yourself!

First of all, spend the extra 70¢ and get chunk light tuna in water, not the cheap flaked stuff in oil. When you open the can, cut all the way around so the lid separates and floats on top of the tuna. Then, invert it over the sink and use your thumbs to squeeze the lid into the tuna so as to get most of the water out of it. Next, phone a friend and tell them to come right over for an awesome tuna salad sandwich. Then get to work.

Ingredients

  • 1 can of chunk light tuna in water (squeezed and drained)
  • 2 tablespoons of light mayonnaise*
  • 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
  • 2 teaspoons white wine vinegar
  • 1 stalk celery, diced
  • 1 shallot, minced
  • 1 long red hot chile** seeded and diced (optional)
  • 1 large or 2 small dill pickles, chopped
  • Generous amount of freshly ground black pepper

Method

Mix all that stuff together. Don’t over mix it — just a few turns around the bowl. Toast some multi-grain bread. Don’t add any butter or mayo to the toast, just pile on the tuna salad. Top with zingy greens, such as arugula or mâche. Enjoy.

* Note that I usually don’t recommend “light” versions of foods, but for mayonnaise I’ll make an exception — particularly in the case of Hellman’s Light. However, stay away from ultra-light mayonnaise of any brand. Doing without is better than eating that fake-food gunk.

** You could also use a jalapeño pepper (red or green). Remember to take the seeds and white membrane out so it won’t be too hot. The objective is to add some color and just a touch of zing.

Gender-neutral English

One of the things that makes English an easier language to learn than many others is that it is largely gender-neutral. Unlike French, for example, where a car is feminine but a truck is masculine, we don’t have to worry about such confusing, seemingly arbitrary, yet alluringly poetic distinctions. No, in English it’s all business.

There is, of course, an illusion of gender specificity in English, at least when it comes to titles and occupations. But those are fading and archaic distinctions from an earlier time when it was inconceivable for a woman to be on equal standing as a man. Hence we have (or should I say, had) atrocities such as "poetess" and "manageress."

A poet, of course, is one who writes poetry, not a man who writes poetry. Thus, "poetess" is an unnecessary feminized version, designed to imply that she isn’t quite a real poet, like Byron, or Shelley. Ditto manageress, who must surely report to a real manager.

There are, of course, a few such terms that are struggling to hang on. Some people still call the woman who serves them terrible food on an airplane the stewardess, which is just an unnecessary feminized version of steward. There was a time when all such airborne servers were women, so it was easy to maintain this anachronism. Now, however, there are almost as many males in that job as females, so we have rightly adopted the name flight attendant for that role (although steward would have been fine too).

An anachronism that still clings is actress. Heath Ledger is an actor (one who acts, not a male who acts), so why is Scarlett Johanssen an actress? Why must we specify she is female, but we don’t specify that Ledger is a male? We don’t make that distinction with astronauts, disk jockey, pilots, or  musicians. I think it has something to do with the power of television and the need to make Academy Award® and Golden Globe® award shows easy to understand for the brain-zapped.

Then there is governor and governess. While governor has always meant one who governs (which historically meant a male), governess has always meant a woman employed to educate and train the children of a private household. In other words, there has never been an etymological possibility of a woman governing anything other than someone else’s children. Unless, of course, she is called "governor."

I raised this question a few nights ago when I was knocking back a few Molsons and shooting pool with my old drinking buddy Michaëlle Jean. I said "has anyone ever called you "Governess General?" She ran some english into a triple combination, smashed a half-full Ex over my head, and said "Google has 319 hits for ‘Governess General’ and they’re all wrong."

I was owned by the GG. But when it comes to gender-neutralizing titles it isn’t about political correctness. It’s about getting rid of archaic usage.