Saturday, December 3, 2016

Fight Donald Trump with cheesecake

Proof that we not only talk the talk, we walk the walk: Eli's cheesecakes set out for Ross's high school graduation party.


    Howdy folks. Enjoying the blog? Good, good. Glad you like it. I certainly enjoy writing it.
    Although. One drawback of the quality journalism you've come to expect here is that people tend to start reading, immediately, just jump right on in, and then are carried away, rapt, into my column, and perhaps never notice the advertisement on the side.
    Can't blame them. There's only the one. But it is an important one.
    So I'd like to direct your attention to the left, to the new December ad by the blog's sponsor, Eli's Cheesecake. If you click on it, you'll be taken to the company site where you'll be able to order tasty, wholesome, nutritious Eli's cheesecake for yourself, your friends and your family.
    Why? Well, because it's delicious, for starters. But more than that. We live in perilous times. And as our nation deteriorates into a disordered, Manichean and uncivilized place, we are going to increasingly rely on the relief offered by basic creature comforts such as Eli's cheesecake. As difficult as it is to see Trump naming a Mardi Gras parade of fanatics, wash-outs and incompetents to his cabinet, as painful as it will be to see environmental regulations cast aside, Medicare gutted, and the civil liberties of Americans and hardworking immigrant residents ignored, the route ahead will be all the more challenging if there is nothing good in the house for dessert. The quality of our national discourse, our American pride and our cherished freedoms might slip, precipitously, but the quality of Eli's cheesecake? Never.
    So stock up on Eli's cheesecake now, before the break down of the government affects the package delivery system, or the electrical grid is impacted by a surge in terrorism or from fallout of whatever reckless war or unnecessary international crisis Trump blunders into by stunts such as talking to the Taiwanese president in contravention of 40 years of tradition. We might all be living on canned food and squirrels caught in snares in 2018. But right now you can survive on peppermint cheesecake — doesn't just the thought of that make the four-year infamy that our nation must endure just a little less of a doorjamb-gnawing flash of unspeakable woe?
    If not for yourself, think of your friends, perhaps in distant cities, still reeling at the stab to the soul that the past election represented, frightened folks whose bleak December days could be enlivened by a dark chocolate banana cheesecake from Eli's, or a salted caramel halavah cheesecake, or red velvet cheesecake.
    Wait. Back up. My God. Did I say salted caramel halavah cheesecake? I did. You've never had that in your life, have you? Admit it. You never even heard of it. But now that you have, you won't be able to get it out of your mind. Salted. Caramel. Halavah. Cheesecake.
    Though the enticing effect might be lessened among those who don't quite know what halavah is (fantastic candy made of ground sesame seeds adored by us swarthy Semitic tribes).  Just the thought of salted caramel halavah cheesecake is the spark relighting the beacon of hope that was recently extinguished by the political micturition of 60 million fellow citizens. America didn't reach this point by caving into tyrants, foreign OR domestic. We approach life with the same sense of possibility that lead us, in only 50 years, from the bland yellow disc of a Sara Lee cheesecake to the multi-cultural splendor and deliciousness of an Eli's Salted Caramel Halavah Cheesecake, which you can order right now by clicking here. Do it for yourself or, if not for yourself, for a friend or, if those two imposing beneficiaries don't shake open your wallet, do it for me. I write this stuff every day without asking you to do anything but read it and, now, to buy a cheesecake. For yourself. For a friend. Or hell, for me. Send me the Salted Caramel Halavah Cheesecake. 
    Because even if you can no longer rely on the president or the press, on Congress or the basic decency of your neighbors, this blog and Eli's cheesecake will never let you down. And that's something.

10 comments:

  1. don't really care for cheesecake myself. maybe because I've never had the salted caramel halavah from Elis. ill have to sample a sliver of the one ill order for my moms at holiday dinner!

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  2. THANK YOU. TAKING COMFORT IN CHEESECAKE MIGHT BE JUST ENOUGH TO SHAKE OFF THE DREAD OF OUR DULY(?) ELECTED TYRANT, FOR AT LEAST A FEW HOURS.

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  4. And they have a reduced calorie,low sugar one as well that's very good.

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  5. I think you misspelled that cheesecake's name. We call it Salted Caramel 'Hellava' Cheesecake. ;)

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  6. Okay, sold. But rather than order online, I see it is a simple bus ride to their front door. Mmmmm...instant gratification!

    But tell me, can the cheesecake be frozen? 14 servings is a bit too much for me, but I'd be more than happy to sit in the cafe and enjoy a sandwich and a slice. Should I say that Neil sent me?

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    1. Hope you get this. Yes, it can be frozen. Be sure to wrap carefully. It'll keep for a couple months.

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  7. And we always thought you did it only as a public service. But this display of crass commercialism would not have bothered Dr. Johnson, who told Boswell that "no man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money."

    And the evocation, verbally and pictorially, of these delicacies promises much in the way of postprandial gustatory delight. Again from Dr. Johnson: "Promise, large promise is the soul of an advertisement."

    Perhaps from not being a swarthy Semitic type but a pale Welshman, I never got a taste for halava, but like the idea of cutting the sweetness of caramel with salt.

    Tom Evans

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