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Parfait of Death

I bought a pre-made gelatin parfait at the grocery store this weekend. You might know the kind. It’s strawberry, with chunks of jell-o folded into the fluffy mixed stuff. It’s sold in a sort of mold shaped container so that you can just take it right out and put it on the table and it’ll look nice at the funeral.

“Funeral?” I hear you asking.

Well, yes. I don’t think I’ve ever had this stuff before when it wasn’t connected with death. See, my mother’s side of the family particularly has always been the same. Funerals are almost always followed by a little potluck meal in the basement of the church or funeral home. Weddings were often potluck too, on both sides, now that I think of it. So I may have eaten one of these at a wedding and not remember properly. There was a lot of potluck Swedish meatballs at family gatherings. I can’t think of Swedish meatballs without having someone say “Oh right, Jack’s son.” to me.

The grocery store parfait though, that’s death. It’s always someone can just grab, since they’d forgotten to get anything for the meal before hand. Grocery store parfait is as connected to the ideas of funerals as is the idea of everyone lying their asses off pretending that they always liked recently departed and trying to calculate how much the stuff they were left could be sold for on the open market.

That’s grocery store parfait, and now that I eat it, I understand why I’ve never had it outside of this situation. It’s sort of bland. Not bad, but not really the light fluffy thing a gelatin parfait should be. Unless you were really pressed, you could make it better and cheaper in almost the same amount of time at home.

Also, strawberry Jell-O tastes of death.

May 19, 2009 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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