Chef Boyardee is now persona non grata
Last edited Thu Jul 17, 2025, 06:30 PM - Edit history (1)
So the SO and I had a disagreement.
I contribute a variable amount to food purchases monthly.
I made the mistake of coming home from the gym on my bicycle with the remains of a large Cofair sub which I proceeded to eat in the kitchen.
This initiated a lecture about not making unnecessary food purchases when we have food at home.
So to learn a lesson, I was to buy my own food and cook for myself for the remainder of the month.
This really sucked, because the SO is a gifted cook, cooked professionally for 20 years, and I have been known to burn water.
So we went grocery shopping together.
When we got to canned goods, I grabbed Chef Boyardee. Several varieties.
Like 20 cans worth.
Then to deli for a big bag of Smith's Bologna, and bread.
"Why are you buying so much of that?" You should get healthy food!"
Then it began
As a bachelor for decades, a can of Boyardee and a sandwich is a gourmet meal.
Cereal for breakfast.
Pop Tarts for snacks.
She would follow me to the pantry.
"Are you eating that again?"
"No wonder you can't lose weight!"
"That's so unhealthy! Full of sodium!"
(Very true. But I ain't hungry either )
Days later - "ISNT THAT SHIT GONE YET?!"
A week later, tried to sneak a can up to my attic man cave for the ham radio net, eating C ration style cold from the can...
"PUT THAT BACK! I DONT WANT THAT UPSTAIRS!"
The next evening, got a text while in the cave - "Get your stupid ass down here, it's dinnertime!"
Homemade chicken pot pie soup to die for
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"Don't ever let me see that crap in here again!"
Thanks, Chef Boyardee!
(If you ever have time, check out the history of Chef Boyardee.
He helped feed the hungry during the depression.
Still a bargain at $1.25 a can.
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= new reply since forum marked as read
Is the mother of survival
Covertly!
As an American of Italian descent, I have to say, "As he should be".
[Please read this as if you can see the twinkle in my eyes]
I don't care if he fed the multitudes and cured the blind, I would sooner spit on my Grandma's grave than eat that stuff. I read an article about weird punishments that people experienced as a child, and one guy wrote that his Italian grandmother made him eat Chef Boyardee when he was in the doghouse. And, yes, you may insert your own jokes about feeding that stuff to a dog before reading further.
Now, I have sympathy for those who had to keep food on the table within the confines of a limited income. I grew up in a family of seven that included four very hungry boys. My mother, who was not Italian, learned her mother-in-law's recipes out of necessity. A huge pot of rigatoni, (less messy than spaghetti) was far less expensive than a few cans of pre-made, military-grade synthesized ravioli. Of, course, this did involve making an equally huge pot of tomato sauce and not everybody had my Grandma's guidance.
But (semi) seriously, I'd still rather toss some pasta in olive oil and a little garlic than endure Chef Boyardee. And there are a few jarred tomato sauces that I can eat without being weighed down by generations of Italian-Catholic guilt. (Ragu is not one of them. Their commercials make me want to throw a brick into my television.)
So, in summary, you can probably tell that I take Italian food waaay too seriously. What can I say? My family was pretty messed up to the point that the neighbors had to call the cops on us every 18 months or so. But if my mother ever broke out the Chef Boyardee, someone in the extended family would have called Child Protective Services and probably the Humane Society, too-- just to make sure that the dog was okay.
Thus endeth the rant, which, again, you must read me saying in a teasing tone with a lot of animated hand gestures.
Thanks for sharing!