I want it now and I want it RIGHT now.

Call me a big fat baby, but when I go grocery shopping here in France sometimes I want to throw myself on the ground and have a big ol' temper tantrum, kicking and screaming and yelling. Which will surely help me make new friends - especially with French women. You know, because they're not reserved at all or anything like that. No, not at all.

At any rate, you might be asking what could possibly make an "adult" woman go all Veruca Salt. The answer, my friends, is quite simple. I can't find Panko. Anywhere.

Yeah, you'd think I'd be screaming about something important. But nope. Just a bag of bread crumbs.

I've searched high. And I've searched low. I've searched here, and even there. Always searching, searching, everywhere. And see? See? Not being able to find Panko has turned me into a half-assed Dr. Seuss.

Quelle catastrophe!

So what's so extraordinarily awesome about Panko? Besides being better than normal bread crumbs, not too much. How often do I cook with Panko? Not too much. Why do I want it so badly? Good question. Glad you asked.

Right now, Panko is like the unattainable boy with the sexy smile you had a crush on in high school – the boy you liked just because you couldn't have him. Face it: we all want something that much more when it's...just...out...of ... our... reach. And you love it, need it. You've got to, got to have it. (I feel a song coming on...)

You with me so far?

Now here comes the big question: if Panko were easily purchased here would my obsession with finding it end? You bet. Just like the boy in high school – the unattainable one with the sexy closed-lip smile – once you got "him" you realized he wasn't so great.

I think I just went on a bit of a tangent.

Back to Panko. Really, my mother could send me a care package of all the foods** I'm obsessing over. But that would be too easy. And I wouldn't have been able to write this post.


On to you: if you were stuck on a desert island, not to be confused with a dessert island (yum!), and you could only bring one bag filled with ingredients...what would you pack? Or is their one food product you simply can't live without?


**Funny story: Yesterday, I got a frantic email from my mother asking whose picture I used for my article: Welcome to Planet Botoxia. As she was on her Crackberry, and not able to get to my blog, I could have tortured her and said, "why you, of course," but I was a nice daughter. Nice enough...for now.

Note to mother: Hey, Mom, how's the care package coming along? The one with the panko? And the red pepper flakes? Remember, my threat? Well, it's going in the book...


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