No one’s accused us of being overly clean or bright, but we own the “adventurous” label hand’s down.
All brownliners have a host of aberrations; we’re as superstitious as baseball players, display enough nervous tics to warrant rehab, and practice strange ritual, reviled and largely misunderstood.
That’s why we only offer lunches to the folks we like. Slaw dogs may be the pinnacle of cuisine in the higher elevations, but Wasp cookies are “culinary cutting edge” regardless of which continent hosts the Brown water we’re in…
![](https://singlebarbed.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/wasp_cookie1.jpg "We call it \\"the Hatch in a cracker\\"")
Native foods contain precious anti-bodies to combat the accidental dunking, and coupled with our lay entomological studies – we seek education and immunization in every calorie ingested.
… and on slow days, it’s bait.
Adapt, evolve, and overcome; Darwin didn’t plan on sissies reproducing, and we take offense if we’re escorting one through the Brown Water.
Slogging through all that odiferous stream bottom usually eliminates the urge to dine, especially for the first couple of outings. We dispense with the usual formalities like crystal dinnerware and silken napkins, preferring the camaraderie of finger foods to break the ice.
It’s fairly common to mistake our fly box for the party tray as they look so much alike. Neatly ordered rows of “Czech Nymphs” await the angler bent on protein, but “Czech” for fish hooks before swallowing…
Brownliner’s have always espoused “green” dining – only because introducing such high energy foods to traditional fishermen turns them green in a hurry. We keep the recipes close to the vest, and discourage the casual diner from inquiries like …
“…. what was that delicious, crunchy, invigorating item in the salad?”
“I’m so glad you asked, it’s a native species common to all brownline watersheds that feeds off decaying flora and fauna, has zero Transfat, and domesticates amazingly well.
Rich in protein, typically taking on the flavor of its host, it’s abundant, muscular, and rich in nutrition.
It’s our ‘little entomological nutrition powerhouse’ and a trade secret.”
Can’t come up with the proper words to comment. Think I will leave this one to someone else. (can’t wait to see some of the comments on this one)
There won’t be any comments, all them Blueliners are holding their writing hand over their mouth, running for the bathroom.
I didn’t see any of these items in the latest Harry and David catalog. I’d love to send a tin of wasp cookies to my mother-in-law.
And now I understand why you have never been bothered when you find a few crawling creatures in my nuts. To you it’s just another food group.
AWT: I probably would have phrased that comment a bit differently.
I agree.
AWT is the proprietor of a Little Stinking Walnut orchard – which I trespass upon with great glee.
…and if I accidentally stumble into a tree and a nut hits the ground I get gleaning rights. Which is why I wander through his orchard like a drunken sailor.
The story was bad enough, but this comment thread has taken an ugly turn.
As for the blueliners fleeing in mortification, I’d like to point out that the last time I brought the L&T home a gift-wrapped “perfect streamer rod” on our anniversary, she briefly noted that it was a lovely streamer rod for someone who actually fished (that would be me), and then baked me cookies that made the wasp-chip models in your story seem tame.
Brownliners hardly hold the patent on spousal poisoning.