What Goes In...

I just stumbled upon a new type of degree, one that is, I suspect, even less practical than a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing.

The world's first Master in Fine Food and Beverage.

Hey, I'm all for expanding the palettes of the mainstream beyond high fructose corn syrup and cheezburgers. I think Top Chef is excellent television. The fondest eating experience I've had in my post-SpaghettiO days involved crispy calf brains and a Meyer Lemon souffle. (R.I.P. Portland, Maine's Bandol) And the idea of higher education finally supporting and preparing those interested in the pursuit of gastronomic greatness fills me with something not unlike the cream-filling in my step-mom's homemade cannolis: rich, sweet, and studded with chocolate chips. In short, happiness personified. So what's the problem?

Below, their online banner ad:

This is the first image of an animated GIF file. Unfortunately the rest of the images do not cycle through after uploading the picture. Here is the text that appears in the white space above:

"Come and see" ... "how tasty" ... "A Master in Management can be."

Then: "The world's first Master in Fine Food & Beverage"

The program is run through an Italian business school called SDA Bocconi. It begins in 2009, and runs for 12 months. Sorry, latecomers--The deadline for applying was June 30th, 2008. You'll have to wait until next year to learn how to prepare, cook and sell the very finest coils of moist poop.

I Recommend: Brown Bread. Plus, a dialogue.

The name says it all. This is Bread, it says. Also, it is Brown. Now eat me.
"But why?" you might say. "You are but brown bread. I know few breads which are any other color."
What of white bread?
"The most elusively named of all the breads. Look closely: That is a light, light brown."
And marble rye?
"Merely different shades of the same hue. Brown and brown."
Pumperknickel?
"A quite dark brown, but brown nonetheless."
Sourdough?
"Please. That is no bread. That is an antacid pill given form. Press it to your skin, and in time you will develop a slight burning sensation. Is it the high yeast content? The flaky texture? No matter: As the nipple chafes under constant shirt-rubbing duress, so, too, does the stomach yield to the Sourdough."
What are you talking about?
"I am trying to talk about Brown Bread."
Well, go on then.
---
It's cooked in a can. Take that old soup can of yours, fill it with flour and molasses and other ingredients (this is no recipe, but an appreciation), and throw it in the oven. Soon you will have what is known as Brown Bread, and though it is assuredly the former, I'm not sure you can call it the latter in good faith. But you can believe me when I say: It is a tasty diversion. And shaped like a cylinder, no less.

Now slice that silo-shaped brick. Thin, thick, however you choose; I prefer a medium slice, about one-half inch wide. Toast it. Not too dark, but you'll want a slight crispness to the surface. Once it's warm and toasty, spread your chosen condiment atop the dense surface. Two favorites:
-cream cheese with green onion and chives
-a thin layer of cinnamon butter, a thick layer of chunky natural peanut butter
Take small bites and chew slowly. The air is cold; the longer you consume, the more blood will circulate in and around your stomach, allowing the skin around that most sedentary of torso locations to warm up, heating your body from the Belly Button outward in concentric circles. Now, look closely: Those are the indentations from that molded aluminum can, the same shapes surrounding the outer surface of your Brown Bread, the ever-rippling water after the first cast stone...

Also available with raisins!