Yesterday afternoon at the grocery store, I said to my wife, “Let’s get something easy for supper, something I can fix.” She suggested frozen TV dinners. Sounded good to me.
I saw something called Amy’s Mexican Bowl, or some such. I had never tried that. I saw the words “Organic” and “Gluten Free,” but bought the thing anyway.
I apologize for not following my long-held disregard of anything that advertises itself “Organic” or “Gluten Free.”
But, this one-time stumble proved my point: “Gluten Free” is code for “flavor free.”
I might as well have eaten the pizza box that has been sitting on the counter for two days.
Amy, your food sucks.