I want to break up with Rocket
August 26th 2008 00:24
Dear Rocket,
You were fun for a while in 2001 but now, we are finished. I need some time away from you. We are seeing too much of each other. You are great, but I need my space please. I broke up with baby spinach and sun dried tomatoes for similar reasons. I hope you will understand.
Cheers
M
Rocket is so overused and mainstream, that even curly parsley is bagging it for not having any street cred. Rocket is omnipresent. Like a needy boyfriend. There is rocket, at every meal, every afternoon at the pub, every girl’s night out. Rocket is the clingy boyfriend of the food world. The fad of undressed rocket, rolled into a pretentious tumbleweed, on top of every meal, must end.
Like parsley before it, rocket is now being thrown on top of almost anything. Rocket, get some dignity. It is this extra-curricular over use that will be the demise of rocket. If you are going to use rocket, do it properly. An example of a fabulous use of rocket is. A croissant stuffed with gruyere and proscuitto, with a side salad of rocket and pecorino. The rocket was wild, dressed and had plenty of seasoning. The rocket also had a purpose, it had a task. It was designed to offset the richness of the melting gruyere and the saltiness of the proscuitto and the buttery croissant, with its peppery freshness.
A bad example of how to use rocket. Rocket. Undressed. Unseasoned. Piled high on my bacon and eggs. It’s a wiry ball of lawn clippings, that’s just in the way. It’s too dry and grassy to eat undressed; it doesn’t mingle with eggs and bacon, Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some closed minded rocket hater. Do I love rocket in a salad? Yes. Do I love rocket pesto yes. Do I need to eat rocket with every meal? No.
My day with rocket:
8.23 am
Like a loser friend who stays over too long after a party, I woke up to find rocket on top of my scrambled eggs and sourdough toast at breakfast. I feel like screaming, why are you here? You just tag along with everything these days; get your own life Rocket. Be your own herb.
12.56pm
BLT. Is now BRT. I am outraged. This is crossing the line. Rocket, stay out of the classics. You don’t belong here. You are not, and will never be anything other than a fad. You are the Garry Coleman of the food world.
7.22pm
Café launches rocket attack on patron. On top of my pumpkin pizza. Rocket. The base of my side salad. Rocket. Two dishes. Two serves of rocket. I swing by a screen printing place on the way home. I order 500 T-Shirts each to read “There’s nothing wrong with Lettuce!”
As a single girl, I am on the hunt for a rocket millionaire. I would like to marry into a family of rocket barons. “Why yes I am from the rocket dynasty. Great Grand Father used to grow curly parsley for butchers shops and made his fortune. Now his grand son, my husband, owns the monopoly to rocket in Australia, yes so every time you order anything, from anywhere, you are eating our rocket, why yes you can sit in the Ferrari.”
Rocket is the restaurant industry’s answer for every problem
How can we ruin this BLT? Rocket
How can I make my overpriced café seem more wanky? Rocket
We want to charge $16 for a toasted sandwich how can we justify it? Rocket
This is an Indian restaurant, what can we add to seem more modern? Rocket
I want to get greens out of a bag from Coles and call it a salad? Rocket
I am trying to be fusion what can I serve with this Thai chilli pasta? Rocket
How can I stuff up this classic prawn cocktail? Rocket
What can I put ontop of this risotto? Rocket
But it’s rocket risotto? Rocket
Yours in rocket free food,
The Lady of Nosh
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