Ketchup

There are two schools of thought on Ketchup. Either ketchup is a condiment, designed for the facilitation of mastication of hamburgers, french fries, and other fast-food specialities; or ketchup is a food group in and of itself, for which purpose fast food (or any food, really) is simply a delivery method, as a spoon is generally considered inappropriate. (I realize of course that this excludes anyone with the great misfortune to be completely unaware of Ketchup, but this ommision is relatively minor, since upon discovering Ketchup, these persons would immediately fall into one of the above groups.)



I never in my life believed that one day I would have Ketchup as a weekly item on my shopping list. Just tonight, I served chicken fingers, mashed potatos, green beans, and corn for dinner. The only item eaten without Ketchup was the corn. As the adults in the family, Sven and I toughed out dinner without any, and yet, a quarter of the bottle disappeared.

What is it about overly sweetened, poorly seasoned, somewhat gelatinous tomato paste that children find so irresistable? Is it the immense satisfaction they receive when yet another article of clothing is stained tomato-red? Perhaps it is simply the excessive amounts of sugar concealed by its deceptively innocent façade.

The most disconcerting thing about Ketchup is the blatantness with which it is attempting world domination. The latest on this front? Labels on the Ketchup bottle informing us that Ketchup prevents cancer.