Capital “n” nasty


I first photographed this jug of marinated mushrooms after discovering them in my neighbor’s junk-laden house. Apparently, due to years of temporary college student habitation, the house is filled with detritus that doesn’t belong to anyone, but hasn’t been thrown out. After taking the picture, however, I learned its background story.

There is a store in the ‘burgh called Restaurant Depot that sells large amounts of food for, you guessed it, restaurateurs. A roommate living in the house four years ago decided to pick up some marinated mushrooms (no indication as to why). Four years. Think about that for a moment. When these mushrooms were “fresh,” there was no Iraq war. There was no Department of Homeland Security and no color coded terror alert levels. Spain still used the Peseta (and not the Euro). The US had only recently invaded Afghanistan. Milosevic’s trial had only just begun.

No, I don’t think I’ll be eating any of those mushrooms.


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