Monday, August 10, 2009
Okay. I must interrupt my planned, Oh-gee-my-sunflowers-are-amazing, OMG, have you read Kim Crawford's book or what the editor of The Fabulist said about my writing made my nipples hard and my Hitachi Magic Wand jealous--to talk about effing Miracle Whip.
There are some ad campaigns I can't be silent about. No. Really. I will not tone it down. Miracle Whip, the white trashiest of white trash cooking ingredients--that secret ingredient to everything from seven layer salad (The Miracle Whip cooks the frozen peas...really!) to the mysterious Miracle Whip Cake--that erstwhile companion to lime jello has decided it wants to be hip.
Christ on a cracker, it's like watching your grandma take out her teeth to do some crunking. Can Miracle Whip ever truly be X-treeeeme? Cheese-Whiz, the beee-otch--yeah, I can see it making the crossover--it's got that slutty cheese in a can thing going for it--but Miracle Whip? I'm just not feeling you, MW.
They hired Hardee's slacker dude to do the voice over--which is even more embarrassing.
I'm relatively certain I'm not violating any corporate secrets by telling you that if you take a half cup of regular mayonnaise, add a teaspoon of sugar or high fructose corn syrup and an extra squeeze of lemon juice that you have Miracle Whip. It's mayonnaise. With sugar and extra lemon juice in it.
See, Kraft has this fantasy that Miracle Whip's demographic looks like this:
But see, Miracle Whip eaters are my peeps. They live in my hood. They look much more like Mickler's cover girl.
And you will find truly surprising uses for Miracle Whip in WTC--but, you know, it's never going to be Baconnaise or some shit like that. 'Cause, you know--it doesn't go well with Jägermeister.
It's really part of a general sort of ad I've seen too much of lately, those ads that seem to suggest that an awesome party with all the coolest people you know is just a moment away assuming you are on your way to Taco Bell or about to purchase whatever product they're shilling.
Grab a bag full of Krystal Chiks and drive till you hear the dj. It will suddenly be the greatest club night of your life and will happen spontaneously in your bff's yard.
Love those little narrative stories between the recipes, too.