And so I found myself slathering yellow deli mustard on a Styrofoam plate and waiting for 20 seconds to pass and the inevitable shrill beep that suggested this was really happening.
I'll spare you the details of what it's like to bite into prepackaged, oversized pig in a blanket with no apparent expiration date. Although I will say through some bizarre transmutation of food science, the sausage had the taste of sweet rolls and the puff-pastry exterior was fatty and salty. I wonder if somehow the flavor additives for the two main components of a sausage puff were somehow switched at its unholy birth.
I got half a bite in and realized that this was a bet I couldn't win. Because like cloying hotel shampoo, the smell of what I was eating seemed to be expanding rapidly through my head, marking its progress with a foul, syrupy sweetness.
The lesson here is one that should not just apply to continental breakfasts. Instead, it has near universal applications. I should have known when I discovered pigs in a blanket outside of a party setting, that I was making a colossal mistake. So the next time you encounter a food outside of its natural habitat, don't acknowledge that it is there. Don't make any sudden movements. And whatever you do, don't eat it.
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