A Really Short and Profane Rant

Who the hell decided that maple syrup belongs every-God-damned-where?   I have been turning down bacon at brunches where it has been maple-ized,  passing on sweet potato pies sweetened with it (and saying no to sweet potato pie is like saying no to another cat for me),  and I even had to gag my way through a piece of sea bass with some sickly maple glaze.

But the latest was just too much: A Croque Monsieur made with maple-cured ham.  Yes, maple dripping onto Gruyere cheese.  One does not pay $12 for a grilled ham and cheese sandwich that tastes like a Grand Slam Breakfast. 

I don’t know if it was some Canadian or New Englander trying to promote one of their greatest products, or if it was young chefs trying to do something different, but it has got entirely out of hand.  In fact, so much so, that I can no longer eat maple syrup period.  The smell of it now gives me a Pavlovian response to want to fucking gag.

And to think of all the shit Californians have had to take for our perceived rampant use of cilantro.