This got brought up in comments about the "What's on my Plate" tree, and Maren didn't know what it was. It's time you all knew. Brace yourselves.
First: a little history. In 11th grade Gabe Soll and I were partners on a civil-war era novella for our AmHist class. He did most of the work, I mostly proofread. One of the other groups got a failing grade when it was discovered that they had essentially rewritten the film "The Posse". I digress. Anyway, I borrowed Gabe's copy of
Penn & Teller's How to Play with Your Food, and I never gave it back. Gabe, if you're reading, I'm sorry. Also, why are you reading, we haven't spoken in years - I heard from Chuck Moscato that you were a balding lawyer. Call me.
What the rest of you need to know is that the book in question is chock full of fun things to do with comestibles. That's right. Everything from "How to transport David Letterman's Watch into the Belly of a Fish" to "Stabbing a Fork in your Eye" (ask Kari about that one sometime - I did it at the Potomac Mills Food Court and she totally freaked). One of the tamer entries is "The Parsley Game." I quote:
"The parsley game is very simple: when Parsley, that useless biennial bastard nephew of the carrot family, is served on your plate as a garnish, you sneak it onto the plate of one of your dinner partners without being seen by the recipient. It's as easy as that, but, like chess, the possibilities are endless... The first few times you play the game, you'll win, but then your pals will catch on that you're playing and it will get harder... After a while, no one will turn around for anything."
So there you have it. Palm your parsley early, when nobody's thinking about it yet, and be ready at a moment's notice to get it onto the plate of anyone who looks away or goes for a drink refill.
