Open Letters Love Amy

Because the Internet is easier than buying stamps and I will just lose your zip code anyway.

Tag: eating

An Open Letter To Tuna Noodle Casserole

Dear Tuna Noodle Casserole,

“Desperation, laziness, overwhelming craving: I say these are three conditions that drive a person to make a tuna noodle casserole.”
– Melissa Gray, The Salt

I beg to differ. Overwhelming craving is the only condition. As you know, if you’ve read the rest of these letters, I live in Los Angeles very near my uncle, Jerry, but very far from my grandmothers. It takes two hands to count the number of times Jerry and I have gotten together to make you, for the sole reason that we missed the rest of the family.

Clockwise from upper left: turkey butt stuffing, sweet potatoes, stuffing from the box, green bean casserole. All my grandmother’s classic recipes, good friends of tuna noodle. Insider tip: the butt stuffing is the best.

Both of my grandmothers are fantastic cooks. My dad’s mom has always been more, let’s say, adventurous. A lot of things involving eggplant and liver. I also have a number of recipes she cut out of the newspaper and later marked “Good.” But it’s my maternal grandmother who makes you, tuna noodle. She makes you like nobody’s business. The classic way. No double digit ingredient list, no mushrooms with names she wouldn’t pronounce correctly anyway. Just you.

I’m sure the updated recipe from the article above is delicious. I love all the ingredients (minus peas, which should NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WHATSOEVER BE MIXED INTO ANY CASSEROLE, YUCK YUCK YUCK), but I don’t eat you because I want a delicious, gourmet meal. I eat you because I want to pretend like I am seated at my grandma’s kitchen table in Tillamook, Oregon, while the fireplace is making that creepy noise because of the wind and my grandma is doing dishes, talking about “those sluts” in the latest issue of People magazine. You are not in need of an update, as the article’s title suggests. You are perfect just as you are.

Before I let you go, I’d like to ask your opinion of something and, with any luck, finally settle a decades-old family debate. One of our most heated debates (yes, more heated than “Is it ‘padlock’ or ‘paddle-lock?’” Do you prefer to be eaten with or without ketchup on top of you? What’s that? No ketchup is allowed? Exactly what I thought. Thanks for settling things.

Never change.

Love, Amy

An Open Letter To Elan Gale

Dear Elan,

Hello, you are funny on Twitter and whatever but I have a really important question about the most recent episode of The Bachelorette.

Can you please tell me what each of these snacks are? Yes, cool that there’s a rose on this date, but is any of this bacon wrapped? If answer is yes, can I please be on the next season of The Bachelor as one of the ladies (provided same kind of snacks are provided)?

Are these the right reasons for being on the show? That’s what everyone is always referring to, right?

LMK.

Love, Amy

An Open Letter To The Knott’s Berry Farm Commercial

Dear Knott’s Berry Farm Commercial,

So, when you say that with a season pass I can eat 17-18 more pieces of pie, is that a challenge? Or just general info?

Love, Amy

P.S. If it’s a challenge lemme know ASAP so I can get out there and really show you who’s boss as far as eating pie. You have no idea what kind of skills you’re in for.

An Open Letter To The Starbucks On Wilshire

Dear Wilshire Starbucks,

To clarify, you are the one by SAG and the E! building, not the one up by La Brea where I have gotten in a fight with a boy.

The only thing or person I have fought with at you is the prosciutto from the bistro box I had today, which I ripped apart with my bare hands like a starving cave woman. The bank account is getting low, so I’ve been using my Christmas Starbucks gift cards as lunch money lately. Here is what came in the bistro box you gave me today:

  • asiago cheese
  • that prosciutto
  • peppered salami
  • fancy crackers
  • a selection of olives
  • the smallest dark chocolate square I’ve ever seen

This hardly counts.

There were also a couple pieces of lettuce, but I didn’t eat them. Was I supposed to eat the lettuce? It looked weird. Anyway, it was a big day for you I guess because two guys in suits were gesticulating all over the place and muttering about the redesign of the “queuing bar.” Sounds like next time we meet you might have a fancy new look!

Thanks for the snacks and I’ll see you soon. Unless my gift card runs out. Then I’ll be at Trader Joe’s snacking on all the free samples I can get away with.

Love, Amy

An Open Letter To Billy Crystal

Dear Billy Crystal,

You hosted the 84th Academy Awards – I PA’ed them. We were clearly on opposite ends of that particular totem pole, but I had a great time nonetheless. I was kept quite busy, and I’m sure you were too, which is probably why we never ran into each other the entire time I was there. But what are the odds that I would see you in Larchmont days later?

They are likely very slim, but that’s what happened. If you remember me at all from yesterday evening it would be as the girl who was too focused on window-shopping the frozen yogurt place to realize it was you until the guy she was with pointed you out. It baffles me that even though we worked in the same building for a while, I had to go to Larchmont to see you in person, but I’m not convinced anything in life makes sense anyway.

I hope you had a nice night and didn’t eat as much pizza as I did. No one should eat that much pizza.

Love, Amy