I have good news for you, and it concerns carbohydrates.
Just when you thought Americans couldn't invent anything, somebody in New York came up with the cronut.
In case you haven't heard, a cronut is a cross between a croissant and a doughnut, and people are lining up around the block for them. In some bakeries, they cost $40, and scalpers are even selling them for $100.
Trust me, if a food has a scalper, it's either a carbohydrate or crack cocaine.
Cronuts are so popular one newspaper called them a "viral dessert."
I'm not sure that would be my word choice.
I generally like to separate my desserts from my viruses.
I quarantine my food.
Cronuts come rolled in sugar, filled with cream, or topped with glaze, and bottom line, I can't wait to get my lips around one.
Maybe that came out wrong.
I might be on the next train to New York.
The bakery is in SoHo. I'm gonna be SoHappy.
People are saying that cronuts are the new cupcakes, but I never believe it when people say something is the new something else.
Except that 70 is the new 50.
Speaking as someone over 50, I can tell you that's true.
But not if you eat a lot of cronuts.
Don't get cronutty.
If you ask me, the cronut is the high-rent version of Dunkin Donuts' new Glazed Doughnut Breakfast Sandwich.
Yes, you read that right. Dunkin' Donuts has come up with the idea of putting eggs and bacon between slices of a glazed doughnut, and they're hoping you stick it in your mouth.
I will, except for the bacon.
I never eat anything smarter than I am.
Unless it's a carbohydrate.
I'm trying to understand when the combination platter turned into the combination food.
Because it's obviously brilliant.
Why eat your eggs and then a doughnut, when you can stick them together and shove them in your mouth?
Think of the time you're saving!
Plus it all goes down the same.
If it doesn't lodge in your throat and choke you to death.
You remember the "Monster Mash."
It was a graveyard smash.
In fact, why not mash all your food up?
For example, we love mashed potatoes. So I bet we would love mashed potatoes carrots oatmeal pizza.
It would completely do away with side orders, but who cares?
They're so . . . side.
And it doesn't matter if one of these things is not like the other.
Don't be so matchy-matchy about your food.
Think outside the box bag carton tube toilet paper.
The culinary times are changing, and we have to change with them.
After all, we live in the era of mash-ups. I heard this term so much that I went online to see what it meant, and found the definition in the urban dictionary.
By the way, don't ask me why it's called "urban."
Maybe to use it, you have to live in the city.
I'm guessing New York City.
Anyway the urban dictionary defines mash-up as "to take two completely different types of music and put them together."
Great idea, right?
Just think how awesome it would be if Jay-Z and Bjork were in the same song.
Sorry, I can't hear you. The music is too loud. Or maybe there's a head-on collision between two freight trains.
In my head.
You could even mash up your clothes. After all, we know how great it looks when you wear stripes with polka dots.
Like a rodeo clown!
When I was little, if something was mashed-up, it meant it was broken. You could look up the word in the dictionary, which was an antique thing called a book, found someplace called a bookstore or a library.
Photographs of these things are available online, and I encourage you to know your nation's history.
But nowadays we're mashing up our food.
I say it's time to throw away our plates.
And get a trough.
Look for Lisa and Francesca's columns in their newest collection, "Meet Me at Emotional Baggage Claim," and for Lisa's new novel, "Don't Go," in stores now. Write to Lisa at email@example.com.