A Ketchup Snob

Yes, I admit it. I’m a ketchup snob.

First, good ketchup is the perfect vegetable. I know it’s made from tomatoes and tomatoes are really fruits but if the American government says ketchup is a veggie for schools, that’s good enough for me.

The first rule for ketchup is that it’s edible on almost any meat. I like it on steak, burgers, overcooked pork chops (really, it moistens them), and even chicken fingers. Don’t you dare dump it on lobster or crab legs though. If it is a sea floor crap sucker, it’s not a ketchup food.

However, not all ketchup is created equal.

You can tell good ketchup by the color. Dark ketchup, the color of shady brick is nearly inedible. It’s bitter, watery, and disgusting. This is the ketchup of choice at Mexican resturants. The salsa guys who sell them their condiments don’t understand ketchup. I guess it’s not a big part of Tex-Mex cooking.

Like some Italian pizza sauces, Mexican ketchup is lacking sugar. The acidity is foul to a junk food junkie like myself. I like my ketchup sweet, my meat burnt, and no butter on anything. Actually, the perfect food comes in a paper bag through a drive through window with small perfect plastic baggies of ketchup. Sweet, sweet ketchup…mmm. McDonald’s guy, I think I love you.

Good ketchup is bright and cheery, the color of a bright red Christmas stocking. It’s a happy color for happy hungry people.

When traveling to restaurants, if you aren’t sure of the ketchup content, put a bottle in your purse. Be prepared. Could that many boy scouts be wrong?

If the restaurant doesn’t serve ketchup, do you really think you should be eating there?

Tirz