You Can Be a Boulanger

A couple years ago I started a little side hustle that I called "Rob's Weekend Bakery." Each week I would decide on something to bake, collect orders from Facebook, and then bake it all up for the weekend. Most of my customers were my neighbors, but somehow word got around and complete strangers started ordering my stuff. It was fun to see that people liked my bakes enough to pay for it. 

I put the bakery on hiatus, but I still take occasional requests. One of the most popular items I sold was the French Boule, or "boule de pain" (pronounced "bool de pan," which translates to "ball of bread"). I don't know how authentically French it is, but it is delicious and has just the right balance of being easy to make and a bit of a "wow" factor to it. 

I'm going to teach you how to make the French Boule. If you try it, you'll be amazed at how easy it is. 

This is going to be a typical recipe blog post, with pictures and directions, and then the recipe at the very end. So feel free to scroll down to the bottom if you just want the recipe. 

Let's talk for a minute about each of the ingredients. 

The ingredients are simple: flour, water, salt, and yeast. That's it. 

Flour: I use Lehi Mills unbleached bread flour. That's all I've ever used, but I imagine that any bread flour would do just fine. 

Water: I just use regular tap water. Some people, including my dad the chemistry professor, will tell you that you should use purified or filtered water because the chlorine in tap water can inhibit the yeast from being able to rise. I used bottled water the first few times I made this bread, then I just decided to make the switch to tap water. I'm here to tell you that there is absolutely no noticeable difference, but you should use whatever kind of water you would like. I once used Mountain Dew in place of the water. It produced a slightly sweet bread, and the crust was darker due to the caramelization of the sugar.

Salt: I use coarse kosher salt, but I am confident you could use regular table salt. My dad would probably say that you should avoid table salt because of the iodine, but I doubt you'd notice a difference. If you weigh your ingredients, just use the same number of grams, but if you measure with teaspoons, you'll need to convert it for table salt. 

Yeast: I use Red Star active dry yeast. I'm sure any brand of active dry yeast will work, but I have not tried it with instant yeast. If you use instant yeast, let me know how that goes. 

Now let's talk about equipment for a minute. 

Kitchen scale: First off, I highly recommend a kitchen scale. It's so much easier and accurate, but if you don't have a scale, I'll give you the measurements in cups at the end of this post. But trust me, if you want to do much baking, a kitchen scale is well worth it. 

Mixing bowl: You'll need a large mixing bowl. The dough will rise quite a bit, so make sure your bowl is at least three quarts. I like to double the recipe to make two boules, so I use a six-quart bowl like this. 

Silicone spatula: For mixing, you can use a wooden spoon, but I prefer a sturdy silicone or rubber spatula to help get all the dry flour that likes to hide on the bottom of the bowl. When mixing, you want to make sure there are no dry bits left. 

Baking dish: For the baking dish, I use both a three-quart cast iron Dutch oven and a ceramic casserole dish. The ceramic dish makes a rounder loaf. I've also used a glass casserole dish, which works fine. The important thing is to line your dish with parchment paper, otherwise the bread is likely to stick to the bottom. 

That's all the equipment you'll need! Well, I guess you'll need an oven too. Hopefully you have one of those. Okay, let's get started!

First, measure your bread flour into your mixing bowl. 

Add your salt: 

And then your yeast: 

Mix up all those dry ingredients:

Then add your water: 

Now mix it all up until you have no dry bits. Be sure to scrape the bottom of your bowl really well. At first you'll think you have too much water, then you'll think you don't have enough. Don't worry, just keep mixing and it will all come together. When you're finished, you'll end up with a very sticky dough: 

Now you can cover your dough to let it rise. You can cover with plastic wrap or something like I have pictured below. Just don't put on an air-tight lid or you might end up with a minor explosion as the gasses from the activated yeast expand. 

Let the dough rise at room temperature for at least 18 hours, and up to 24. I like to keep mine on top of the refrigerator. 

After 18 hours, your dough should have risen quite a bit and will be all bubbly.

Next, scrape your dough onto a floured surface. You can do it directly onto the counter, but I prefer to use a baking sheet for easier cleanup. 

Now just roll it around in the flour to get it completely covered. If you doubled the recipe, you'll need to divide your dough in half after this step. 

Try to shape your dough into a ball, but don't worry about getting it perfect. 

Plop your dough into your parchment-lined baking dish. You can preheat your dish while your oven preheats, but I have been skipping that step and haven't noticed a difference. 

Cover your dish and put it in a 450 degree oven for 30 minutes. 

After 30 minutes, remove the lid and bake for another 10-12 minutes. 

Look how nice and round and golden those boules are!

Carefully remove the boule from the dish and let it cool completely on a cooling rack, and then you're ready to slice and eat! 

Now you're officially a boulanger! I hope you try making this bread and that you love it as much as my family and I do!

Classic French Boule

Makes one round boule. You can double the recipe for two boules. 

Ingredients: 

435g bread flour

9g coarse kosher salt

1/2 tsp active dry yeast

356g water

Directions: 

- Using a sturdy silicone or rubber spatula, mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl.

- Add the water and mix until there are no dry bits. Be sure to scrape the bottom of the bowl.

- Cover and let rise at room temperature for 18-24 hours.

- Preheat oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit.

- Scrape the dough onto a floured surface and roll it in the flour. 

- *If you doubled the recipe, divide your dough in half at this point. 

- Place dough in a parchment lined Dutch oven or round casserole dish.

- Bake covered for 30 minutes.

- Remove lid and bake uncovered for another 10-12 minutes.

- Cool completely on a cooling rack. 

Variations: 

You can add 2-3 tablespoons of  fresh chopped rosemary with your dry ingredients. You could try other herbs and add in some minced garlic and pepper! 

Measurements for those who don't want to use a kitchen scale: 

435g bread flour - just a little more than 3 1/2 cups

9g coarse kosher salt - a little less than 2 teaspoons. If you use table salt, it will be a little more than one teaspoon. 

1/2 tsp active dry yeast

356g water - about 1 1/2 cups

Thanks a Latte

It's not a new thing that you can find a Starbucks pretty much everywhere you go these days. Despite its ubiquity, I think I've been inside a Starbucks one time in my life. That's not likely to change any time soon unless they start selling stuff like burgers, pies, or sushi. Or socks! That would be awesome if you could buy socks at Starbucks. You could be driving pretty much anywhere, see a Starbucks, and remember that you're looking for a new pair of Bombas. 

There are several reasons why Starbucks doesn't get much of my money. First off, as part of my religion I don't drink coffee or tea. Herbal teas are fine since there's no actual tea in them. People just call it tea because of what it resembles. Kind of like how eggplant looks remarkably like a plant. 

Some of you are probably saying, "Rob, there are a lot of other things you can get at Starbucks that don't have any coffee or tea. There's a whole line of Crème Frappuccinos that don't have coffee." 

Well, I'm glad you mentioned that. Back in 2010, my niece was extolling the virtues of the Caramel Crème Frappuccino. I was curious, so I decided to venture into a Starbucks for the first time in my life to try one. It was okay, but it tasted exactly like what it was: ice blended with milk and caramel with whipped cream on top. For that I probably paid around four dollars, and I'm sure it costs much more today. And that brings me to the second reason I don't go to Starbucks. 

Apparently the chai latte at Starbucks is one of the greatest things ever in the history of overpriced beverages of all time. A "grande" chai latte costs around $6.50. So for 16 ounces, people are paying six dollars and fifty cents (not counting the tip, and don't even get me started on that) multiple times per week. I'm sure it really is delicious, but at that price it means you're drinking about 40 cents with every swallow. For me, those prices are a little hard to...well, swallow. 

I wanted to experience what all the fuss is about, so I decided to make a version that doesn't have any tea in it. Celestial Seasonings makes an herbal tea called Bengal Spice that has the same spices that make up the chai flavor profile. All I did was heat up some milk in the microwave, steeped it with Bengal Spice, sweetened it with turbinado sugar and frothed it up. Then when it was all nice and frothy on top, I sprinkled on a little cinnamon. And I have to say, it's really good and it cost me pennies to make. I call it the WoW chai latte (if you know, you know). I still have no idea how it compares to a Starbucks chai latte, so if there's a Starbucks frequent flyer out there who will try the WoW version, I'd like to hear your opinion. 

I also made a homemade version of the Caramel Creme Frappuccino. It wasn't hard to find a copycat recipe online, and as I suspected it really is nothing more than ice, milk, caramel, and whipped cream (with more caramel drizzled on top). Oh, and you also have to add sugar so that it doesn't just taste like milk that sat next to the candy dish for a minute. There's also a Starbucks version that has coffee in it, so I made another one and added a little cocoa mix as a coffee substitute. 

The first one tasted exactly how I remember the one from 2010. In other words, it was just okay. The second one tasted a lot like a chocolate milk shake, but the cocoa completely overpowered the caramel flavor. But again, it only cost me pennies to make both of these. And bonus, I didn't have to stand in line next to any hipsters. But I did have to wash the dishes, so there's that. 

I know there are other people who refuse to go to Starbucks because they don't like huge chain companies that drive the local shops out of business. I really don't understand this reasoning. I mean, Starbucks started out as a tiny shop in Seattle. They were laughed at in the 70's when they set their goal to have 2,000 stores by the year 2000. They also aimed, "To turn the Starbucks brand into the most recognized and respected consumer brand in the world." Today, this goal is often cited as a prime example in business classes when they teach about BHAGs (Big Hairy Audacious Goals). Starbucks' success is the American Dream at it's best. And while I personally don't plan to spend my money there, if they start putting out a line of comfy socks, you'll see me there all the time! Well, more like maybe 2-3 times a year, because when you buy good quality socks, you really don't need to replace them that often. 

Fritter the Time Away

I was working furiously at the stove Saturday morning when Lois came home from the gym.  The first thing she said was, "Why does the house smell like a carnival?"  Then she saw me with a pot of hot oil on the burner and piles of fried dough all around me. 

"What are you making?" she wanted to know. 
"Apple fritters!" I replied brightly, knowing that my vegan, works out every morning, healthy wife would not approve.  I thought I'd have been finished and already devouring them with our two sons by the time Lois got home.  I still had half a bowl of uncooked batter. 

She looks at the recipe on the counter.  "This says it serves eight people!" 
"Yeah, about that.  See, I thought it meant that it made eight little fritters.  So I doubled it."
"You're frying up apple fritters meant to serve sixteen people?"
"Well... yes."
"There are three of you." 
"I know."

About 20 minutes later Lois comes back to the kitchen to find me still frying and the piles around me had grown to mountains.  I put Rocky to work drizzling a sugary glaze over about a fourth of the fritters.  "Are you planning to feed the boys anything else for breakfast?"
"Um.  Yes?"  I briefly consider pointing out that there are apples in the fritters, but I know how that conversation would go. 

Around this time Buzz stumbles sleepily into the kitchen.  "What's for breakfast?" 
Rocky answers, "Look how many fritters Dad is making!"
"Oh man, that is awesome!"
I'm sure Lois is giving me a particular look at this point, but I'm focused on flipping the last batch of fritters and trying not to smile as the boys laugh at the absurdity of so much fried food that they ordinarily would only be permitted to eat as a dessert, certainly not for a meal. 

While I put fritters on three plates, Lois cooks a bowl of oatmeal for herself.  I quickly peel three bananas and put one on each plate next to the fried dough to make it a well balanced breakfast. 

By the time we've eaten all we want, the leftovers are still considerable.  I carefully stack over half of the surplus on a sturdy paper plate and quickly head out the door to a neighbor's house.  When I get back, Lois has kindly done most of the cleanup and put the remaining fritters into tupperware.  She gives me a look I can't quite comprehend and then says, "Okay, I tried one while you were gone and it was so good, and I am so mad at you!"  This was by far the best compliment I could have received. 

Cooking delicious, unhealthy foods has become something of a hobby for me.  I guess it doesn't have to be unhealthy, but vegetables just seem so much more interesting when they're sautéd in butter, deep fried, or smothered in a cheese sauce.   

Ree Drummond, aka The Pioneer Woman whose recipe I used for this morning's hijinks, has become one of my culinary heroes.  Everything of hers I've cooked such as biscuits and gravy and chicken pot pie have become instant favorites of the three non-vegans in the family. 

Fortunately I only cook these kinds of things every once in a while, and Lois is diligent in making sure we all get plenty of foods that will be less likely to cause a heart attack.  That's just one of the many reasons we are meant to be together.  And it just happens to be one of the many reasons I will not feel the least bit guilty when I try out a recipe I found for fried chicken that has you marinate the meat in buttermilk overnight.  This is gonna be good. 

I Like Sushi, Sosumi

Going out for sushi has become a popular dining experience.  It's fun, it's trendy, and it's photogenic.  There are now more pictures of sushi on social media than minions, and almost as many as cats.

Not for eating, just for Instagram

So what is the big deal exactly?  You take some pieces of fish (often raw), some vegetables, maybe some cream cheese, and wrap them up in seaweed and rice.  That's right.  Sea. Weed.  At most restaurants, a sushi roll will cost at least eight or nine dollars, and each one is cut up into six or eight pieces.  So every time you take a bite, there goes a dollar.

I have a theory.  People like to eat sushi because it makes them feel daring.  "Hey dude, do you dare me to eat this piece of raw tuna?  I'll even eat it with this seaweed.  And this green spicy play-doh."  It's almost like a game.  And it's not enough to just eat it.  You have to get it from the plate to your mouth using two sticks.  It's like using the tweezers in the Operation game to get the wishbone.  If only there was a buzzer for every time you drop unagi into your lap.

Then you have the people who refuse to even try sushi because the thought of eating raw fish grosses them out (imagine that).  It doesn't matter how often you explain that not all sushi has raw fish.  They want nothing to do with it.  But if you ever start telling them what the ingredients were in the hot dog they ate the other day, they'll cover their ears and yell, "La-la-la-la, I caaaan't heeeear yoooou!"

I have yet to meet anyone who just kind of likes sushi.  People tend to either love it or are afraid of it.  I can't get enough of it.  Sometimes I'll go to an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant.  They always make a big deal that you have to eat all of the rice, and they'll charge you extra for any sushi that you leave uneaten.  It always seems like such a great idea for the first two or three rolls.  But by the time I'm trying to choke down the fifth roll, I can't help thinking, "I've made a huuuuge mistake."  They'll usually bring me the check before I'm done, so once I've paid I know I can leave those last few pieces on my plate and they'll have no way to charge me for it.  Even so, I always make sure to cover it up with my napkin and make a hasty exit before they can catch me.  I'm not sure what I'd do if they did stop me.  "Excuse me sir, you left three pieces of hosomaki. I am afraid you have to pay now." My reply might be something like, "Oh, I'm still going to eat that.  I just need to get something from my car."  Then as I drive away with my tires squeeling, "Suckerrrrrrrs!"

The Sushi Burrito is a Thing That Exists

The sushi burrito is a relatively new take on sushi consumption.  This is basically a huge sushi roll with the seaweed on the outside.  It's wrapped in paper and cut in half so you can eat it with your hands just like you would with something you order from Taco Bell.  Being the investigative journalist I am, I just had to try one.  I went to Sushi Burrito Utah in Provo and ordered their Vegas roll.  It tasted pretty much exactly like a regular Vegas roll, only bigger.  Being the pro I am with chopsticks, I found it a little cumbersome to eat the huge thing with my hands, and it got a little messy at the end.  But for the price, I'd say it was worth it.

So if you're one of those sushi haters, come on, just give it a try.  It won't kill you.  Unless you're allergic to fish.  In that case, maybe you better stick with your hot dogs and chalupas.  Just be sure to post a photo of it on Facebook before you eat it.

Basic Rules of Life Ignored by Supposedly Smart People

I'm not perfect.  Far from it.  If anyone wanted to follow me around for a couple hours, they could compile their own list of stupid things that I do.  I look forward to reading that on their blog someday.  Until then, here are some of my observations that drive me crazy.

If you're in a public place and spill something, clean it up!  Or at least tell someone about it.  Yes, it is probably someone's job to take care of those spills, but don't just walk away from it.  Someone spilled Cheerios on some stairs that don't get used very often in my office building.  They stayed there for days!  I know, I know, I could have said something.  But I still blame whoever spilled them.

Pick up after your dog!  Even though I'd really prefer that you not let your dog do any business on my grass, I recognize that they have to go somewhere.  So if they do end up leaving anything behind on my lawn, you need to pick it up.  And if it's your kids who take your dog for a walk, you don't get to blame it on them.  You're responsible for your kids too.  Scalawag.

If you see someone with their zipper down, food in their teeth, something hanging from their nose, etc., you have a moral obligation to tell them.  You really, really need to do this.  I am tired of always having to be the one to tell people.  It doesn't matter if it's your boss, an annoying co-worker, or the Pope.  If you've ever had someone discreetly let you know that you have a button undone, you're forever grateful to them.  If you come home at the end of a long day to find spinach in your teeth that's been there since lunch, you hate everyone you talked to that day.  Don't be that hated person.

Don't strike up a conversation in a public restroom.  Okay, so I might have issues, but I really don't want to talk to you or even make eye contact with you in the restroom.  It is not a pleasant place to be in, and nothing you have to say will be interesting to me in that environment.  I once worked in an office building where the restrooms were open to the public.  A man came in while I was at the urinal and asked me where he could turn in his resume.  "Well, I'm pretty sure it's not in here."

If you need something, ask politely.  Don't just declare your need.  It makes you sound needy.  As you may know, I work in Human Resources.  I regularly receive requests from employees to fill out forms or prepare letters for various things.  It amazes me how often I get emails that say something like, "Rob, I need a letter verifying my employment so I can establish residency."  I'm always tempted to just write back and say, "Okay, thanks for letting me know."  It's like when my kids say, "I'm hungry."  My response is usually a variation of, "Oh, that's interesting.  Thanks for telling me."

When using instant messengers at work, don't just say, "Hi," and wait for the other person to respond.  Tell them what you want.  The great thing about instant messaging is not having to engage in small talk.  Stop doing it wrong!

When leaving a voicemail message, give some useful information.  If all you say is, "Call me back as soon as you get this message," I will most likely ignore you.  Also, don't tell me what to do.  Also, don't call me when an email or text message will suffice.

Don't tell someone else to remind you of your commitments.  This one really baffles me.  If you say you're going to do something but are worried about forgetting, put it on your own calendar or set up your own reminder.  Don't try to defer accountability to someone else just because they are more reliable.  Organize your life!

These things literally drive me up the wall.  I could go on, but that's probably enough for now.  Feel free to add your own observations in the comments.

Midlife Crisis? No, I Am Actually This Cool.

Being the youngest in my family, it was with more than a little amusement that I watched each of my older siblings turn 40 while I remained comfortably in my youth.

I knew that I would get there someday, but it always seemed a long way off.  Even when my sister turned 40 and I was 37, that was no big deal because I was still in my mid-thirties, right?

Well, I hit 40 a few months ago.  It was with little fanfare, although I think Lois would have thrown a big party if not for my utter indifference.  

I was 18 when I noticed my first grey hairs.  The greys have slowly multiplied since then, but that doesn't really bother me.  But one thing that has become increasingly distressing to me as I've approached 40 is the way my eyebrows are growing.  Like most people, I've had eyebrows pretty much since birth and they've always sort of maintained themselves.  But now they require trimming.  I do not understand this.  I ignored it for a while, but one day it just became painfully clear that something had to be done.  It occurred to me that an eyebrow is pretty much just a mustache for your forehead.  So I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, set my beard trimmer to one, said a quick prayer and trimmed those suckers.  That worked like a charm.  Well, a charm that you might find in a cheap souvenir shop, but a charm nonetheless.


It wasn't until after I turned 40 that I started thinking about what would be a good midlife crisis.  When it comes to cars, I really just want something efficient and comfortable to get me from point A to point B, although a Harley would do that nicely.  But no, I'm happy with my current transportation.  I did indulge myself in what many people might rightly call the lamest midlife crisis ever.  I don't know exactly how it happened.  I don't even drink.  But I inexplicably developed a taste for karaoke.  So after some minimal research, I bought a mixer, some mics, and some other miscellaneous hardware to turn my computer into a pretty decent karaoke system.  On Thanksgiving we were all rock stars and got jiggy with it.  Are you allowed to have more than one midlife crisis?  Because I figure I might live to be 90, so that gives me another good five years to settle on a really good one that involves a little less Neil Diamond.

I don't really feel old, although I do have less energy than I used to.  My waist is still pretty much the same size as it has been since high school (never mind that it might be a bit lower now).  But there's one thing that helps me know that I'm really not old yet.  When I get dressed every morning, instead of sitting down to put on my socks, I balance on my left foot to put my right sock on, then I balance on my right foot to put my left sock on.  Can you imagine an old man putting his socks on while standing? No, it just isn't done.  There may come a day when I fall over during the attempt and break my hip, but until then I'm still young.  Meanwhile, I just need to figure out what to do about this ear and nose hair.  

WiFi, Skipper!

I love books, and I love food.  It's a good day if I can get away from work for lunch and spend about an hour in a nearby restaurant eating and reading.  I used to choose my restaurants based on the quality of their fries and the soda selection, but a new trend with some restaurants has me changing my standards.  

It all started one day when I was at my favorite burger place and as usual had ordered the #5 combo (pastrami cheeseburger with fries and a soda).  I filled my cup with Cherry Coke and sat down at my favorite booth (the one next to the soda fountain).  I started reading an eBook on my tablet when I noticed the new signs indicating free WiFi.  "Hmmm," I thought.  "I wonder if anything interesting has happened on Facebook since I left the office 15 minutes ago."  After spending 10 minutes on Facebook making sure that nothing interesting was happening, I figured I might as well fire up Netflix and catch some Arrested Development.  That's when the frustration started.  Netflix would not work.  Grrr!  Okay, you stupid burger place, I guess I'll get back to reading stupid Treasure Island.  I bet stupid Jim Hawkins wishes he had WiFi.

After that I started going to Zupas more often.  They have an excellent WiFi connection and I could get Netflix without any trouble at all.  Until the day when I couldn't get Netflix.  Grrr again! I suspect Zupas blocked it on purpose to prevent guys like me from taking up table space for too long. But wait, Hulu still works!  Ha ha, Zupas, now I'm going to sit here for another - (looking to see how long this episode of Bones is) - 44 minutes and 26 seconds drinking creative soda concoctions and eating oyster crackers.

A few months ago when Subway put up a sign advertising free WiFi, I realized that I could really use more meatball subs in my life.  And there's nothing quite like that feeling when you've racked up 75 Subway points so you can go in for a free twelve-inch sub.  It is a little deflating when you realize that also means that you've already spent over $75.

Ever since I was a kid, there has been a Skippers restaurant in my hometown of Orem, Utah.  I think I went there once with my mom when I was about seven years old.  I don't remember exactly why I didn't like it, but I think it had something to do with the fact that I was expected to eat fried clams.  Over the years there has been some remodeling of the building, and half of it has been re-purposed as a Jamba Juice.  I assumed the Skippers half eventually went out of business because, who would eat there?  I must not have been the only one making this assumption.  I was genuinely surprised when they put up a sign to make sure passers-by knew that they were still making a go of it.  Not only that, but I also learned that they now have WiFi.

After doing a little reconnaissance, I chose a Tuesday to venture back to Skippers because that is the day you can get the all-you-can-eat fish n' chips and clam chowder special (which means it's something like a dollar less than usual).  The first thing I noticed was that the restaurant seemed cleaner than I remembered.  Even though I knew what I was going to order, I spent a little time looking at the menu.  It struck me that with very few exceptions, everything is deep fried.  They do have salads on the menu, and I wondered what kind of person would order a salad from Skippers when there's a Zupas just down the street.  I bet the kitchen staff freaks out every time someone does order a salad.  I imagine a heated argument in the back between the server and the cooks, ending with the server returning to the customer and saying, "I'm sorry, but we're all out of lettuce.  Would you like some popcorn shrimp instead?"

When they brought my food out, there was a little cup of coleslaw on the side.  I quickly checked to make sure none of the food had touched it and I immediately moved it to the far edge of my table where it couldn't cause any mischief.  The clam chowder was better than I expected, the fish was pretty good when the right ratio of tartar sauce was applied, and the fries - I mean "chips" - were about average.  But the WiFi connection was superb and since it was all-you-can eat, I always had food in front of me while I was watching what Agent Coulson was getting up to.  But that coleslaw cup kept staring at me, and I kept wondering if it had any purpose other than to unnerve me.  I did learn that all-I-*should*-eat was two small fish fillets, one serving of "chips," and one bowl of chowder.  All-I-*can*-eat is a little less than twice that much.

But why do they put the coleslaw on there?  Is it some sort of weird FDA requirement?  I've been back to Skippers several times, and yesterday I overheard the server at the next booth apologize for forgetting one of the coleslaw cups.  To my amazement, I heard one of the group say that he wanted it.  What?!  I couldn't ignore this.  I just had to know what he was going to do with it.  After an appropriate interval I got up with the pretense of refilling my soda, making sure to casually glance over to get a look at this strange person and see if I could discover his diabolical plan.  To my utter horror, he had a fork and was actually putting the stuff in his mouth!  Then, and I am not making this up, his mouth started making chewing motions and I swear I saw his Adam's apple move as if he had swallowed it. And he just sat there, cool as a cucumber, as if he were not doing something unimaginably repulsive.  I don't know how the rest of his group could sit in such close proximity to him.  They must be his minions.  This won't stop me from going back to Skippers because there are still limited restaurants that have good WiFi.  But I'm definitely keeping a wary eye out for that coleslaw guy.  Someone like that could be capable of just about anything.