WINNER & RESULT ANNOUNCED!! 50/50 FOH's Weekly Poll Comp: #7


50/50 Poll #7  

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Today, we're running a classic debate up the flag poll... Peanut Butter! Unlike Vegemite, I don't know anyone who doesn't love Peanut Butter. Which makes complete sense, of course. I mean, it's Peanut Butter... However, there's obviously one possible bone of contention (aside from nut allergies ;))... Smooth or Crunchy? The funny thing about this one is that I find folks are very set on one or the other and will never cross into the other camp if they can help it... It's serious stuff!... Is it a 50/50? We shall see... 

You know the drill: read the question, vote on the poll, elaborate in the thread if you so desire. Voting participants go into the draw for an El Pres sampler! - Drawn next Wednesday (Aus local time).

5050-flagpole1.jpg

All about 50/50...

50/50 is a weekly poll where we find out whether or not some serious bones of contention questions can be finally be buried or will instead remain above ground as a fleshy 50/50 debate... you know, such weighty issues as these...

If given no other option:

are you a Cohiba or Monte person? 

do you prefer Hunnicutt or Trapper in M*A*S*H? 

Connery or Moore as Bond?

Apple or PC?

Smooth or Crunchy peanut butter? 

do you prefer wearing men's or women's underwear?

Sacrificing chickens or virgins?

...that sort of standard fare. 

Vote in the poll and further bolster your standpoint in the thread below if you wish. Poll Votes are public and there's a couple of sticks up for grabs for participants. :party:

Also, PM me Polls that you'd like me to conduct on 50/50 and there'll be a prize for those we decide to use. :thumbsup:

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i found it - please ignore if of no interest. it does not mention peanut butter, but it does mention cigars. it was a piece i did for a mag a while back. colin is an old mate and he and i occasionally

Smooth. I can never look at crunchy peanut butter without being reminded of a story a friend told during his rotation through the geriatrics ward. Patient was suffering from fecal impaction and wore a

i don't like peanut butter. sorry, but i don't. i can eat it if there was nothing else (whereas vegemite should be used to clean car engines). if i had to choose, crunchy. but not fond of it. and

i don't like peanut butter. sorry, but i don't. i can eat it if there was nothing else (whereas vegemite should be used to clean car engines). if i had to choose, crunchy. but not fond of it.

and there are very few things i won't eat - pretty much only pumpkin (though i love pumpkin soup - go figure), popcorn and peanut butter. P is not a good food letter for me. 

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I like peanuts and I like butter. I do not like peanut butter. As a kid I accidentally took a bite of my brothers peanut butter sandwich. That was the last time I ever had it.


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I am the complete opposite of @Ken Gargett when it comes to peanut butter.  I love it and will eat anything made with or flavored with peanut butter.  I was such a picky eater as a child that I am convinced I would have died without it.  If I have to pick, I take smooth.  But I wouldn't turn down crunchy! 

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Creamy jiff pb and honey cracker, pitas, chip, pretzel, sandwich (not certain of anything bready, that pairing cant enhance)....better than a candy bar! Peanutbutter and icecream anyone? Too far? 

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25 minutes ago, Ken Gargett said:

i don't like peanut butter. sorry, but i don't

No need to be sorry, Ken... although...

25 minutes ago, Ken Gargett said:

(whereas vegemite should be used to clean car engines

perhaps for this... That's downright un-Australian! ;)

Actually, I know plenty of us Aussies who can't stand it. Don't know why... Cold toast, real butter, and Vegemite... Heaven! 

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Smooth with a dripping off maple syrup over it, tasty

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20 minutes ago, MoeFOH said:

No need to be sorry, Ken... although...

perhaps for this... That's downright un-Australian! ;)

Actually, I know plenty of us Aussies who can't stand it. Don't know why... Cold toast, real butter, and Vegemite... Heaven! 

allow me to dig through the computer to see if i can find a piece i did years ago when travelling in europe with a friend who loved the muck. the response from spanish security was priceless. 

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6 minutes ago, Ken Gargett said:

allow me to dig through the computer to see if i can find a piece i did years ago when travelling in europe with a friend who loved the muck. the response from spanish security was priceless. 

i found it - please ignore if of no interest. it does not mention peanut butter, but it does mention cigars. it was a piece i did for a mag a while back. colin is an old mate and he and i occasionally travel together (his wife doesn't like to travel much and he and i get to the wineries and restaurants). the first part is about a visit to a famous german winery, egon muller (first went there back in the late 80s - the place had a real brad and janet vibe including large rotties, but we had a magnificent tasting. went with an old american girlfriend who loved it because she found an original copy of klauswitz in their library - to each their own, i guess). 

 

Travels with the Colonel.

 

Caught up with Colin Gaetjens in Paris to head across to the Mosel. Needless to say, at least to those who know him, he would be doing the driving and navigating. After forgetting what side of the road he was supposed to be on about 18 times, and over-correcting about 18 times, we finally come to a large flowing body of water. “That would be the River Something”, he proudly announces. Marco Polo couldn't have put it better.

 

We finally reach the winery of Egon Muller at the appointed time (or thereabouts). Egon has a group of 20-something somms from all over Europe with him and they are about to climb one of the world's steepest vineyards, Wiltinger, and drink some 20-year-old Auslese at the summit. Would we be interested?

 

Absolutely”, declares Colin, adding that he'd show these young whippersnappers a thing or two (yes, he does talk like that). Off we set. What seemed a very long time later, we emerge from the vines at a ledge running along the top – so we thought. Sadly, this ledge is about a ¼ of the way up. Sir Edmund Gaetjens throws in the towel. All too much. 'Don't have anything to prove to these young whippersnappers', most of whom are now little more than dots on far distant slopes.

 

I tell him I'll see him later. No, he demands, you have to help me down. Some days just keep giving.

 

But not here. Too steep.”

Where isn’t?”

We'll find somewhere.”

We don't.

 

So we set off down a slope that would embarrass a mountain goat. I keep seeing newspaper reports declaring that one of Germany's prized vineyards was today destroyed by two fat Aussies avalanching down it. Meanwhile, Egon has skipped back down the slopes to assist. We finally get back to earth. Egon suggests that perhaps we'd like to drive up (seriously? We could have done that in the first place?). So we head around and up the backroads.

 

By the time we get there, the somms are all guzzling Auslese. Inevitably, we cop merry hell from them (deservedly so). Australia's good name took a fearful beating that afternoon. While I am running around trying to convince them all that Gaetjens is actually a Kiwi and nothing to do with us, he takes a turn for the worse. Slumps against a vineyard wall. Everyone rushes over to assist (some people will do anything to be the centre of attention). He has, in truth, gone whiter than a KKK AGM and really does not look good. He can't speak (silver lining?). We carry him across to the car and lie him down. Everyone is trying to work out if we can get an ambulance up to the summit or where the nearest hospital is (well, perhaps not everyone. I’m wondering if his wife knows he brought a suitcase of '99 Burgundies with him and if she'd notice if they went missing).

 

We manage to drive him back down, along the narrowest sliver of dirt-track you have ever seen, and via a traffic pile-up, as the road back to the winery is one lane and apparently some Germans have not been told how important Colin is and that we therefore have an automatic right of way.

 

We get back to the winery, give him a reviving drink and within minutes he is arguing, complaining, directing everyone around, abusing the GPS machine because places are not where he believes they should be and generally giving a critique of the shortcomings of everyone else on the road – in other words, back to his old self.

 

In his defence, it was extremely steep and he is old, fat and unfit.

 

We have put down his unexpected grumpiness to the fact that he forgot his Vegemite and as anyone who witnessed 'the Madrid incident' knows, Gaetjens and that black slime are not easily parted.

 

For those not in the northern hemisphere that fateful day, our hero arrived at the Madrid airport for an internal flight, dressed in his prize blue pork pie hat (who travels with a different hat for each day of the week?). He had with him, in his hand luggage, a tube of Vegemite. The unsuspecting woman at Spanish Customs advised him that she was confiscating it (under the 'no paste' rule – or possibly the 'good taste' rule). She was advised, in return, that she was not. Chaos followed and within minutes, a crowd of, without exaggeration, 400 bemused onlookers had gathered to witness the battle.

 

Our hero first regaled the poor woman with tales of the glories of the slime and hence why he should be allowed to take it with him – she had absolutely no idea what it was or what it could be used for but she was not buying this myth that anyone would be so insane as to actually try eating it. When that didn't work, Colin tried identifying the shortcomings of Spanish Customs. That worked about as well as you'd expect. He then moved on to his personal thoughts on Spain itself. As far as I could work out, Spain's greatest crime was... not being France.

 

By now, the crowd was getting restless and offering opinions – I have no idea if they were for or against our intrepid hero but I could take a wild guess. I was calling for a strip search but no one was listening to me.

 

Eventually, telling them that this wasn't over, Colin abandoned his slime (to be honest, it pretty much was all over by then). For the next hour in the airport, I watched little children duck behind the legs of adults to hide when they saw him coming and I am convinced that Spanish parents now put the fear of God into their kids by telling them tales of how the black slime man in the weird hat will come for them in the night if they don't behave.

 

On a more serious note, back in the Mosel, Egon wanted to do a comparison of one of his wines – 2011 Schartzhofberger Spatlese – under screwcap and cork. No prizes for guessing which looked absolutely scintillating and which looked very reserved, and a touch dull. One or two of the somms took their heads out of their bottoms long enough to declare that this meant the wine under cork was much more profound.

 

But the highlight of the day came, when in mid tasting (we were outdoors), Egon fired up a big cigar. Imagine what the need-a-cause, rent-a-mouth crowd would say about anyone doing that back home.

 

We have a few more wineries to visit in the Mosel but fortunately the Colonel assures me he has given up alpine ascents.

 

Never dull.

 

KBG

 

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Smooth. I can never look at crunchy peanut butter without being reminded of a story a friend told during his rotation through the geriatrics ward. Patient was suffering from fecal impaction and wore an adult diaper as they were incontinent. Not mentioning the smell, but when said diaper was removed.... my friend never bought crunchy peanut butter ever again.

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Was right at 50/50 when I voted.

Saw crunchy creeping up but after Fuzz's post, that may reverse....I for one won't be going crunchy again!

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Crunchy. Only because i like real good whole roasted peanuts. Then there are those damn peanut butter cups...

Funny thing is when i have a handful of salted and roasted peanuts with my espresso pour over, i am thinking of a CC i had. I can't recall the marca though...

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Definately smooth - spread over hot buttered slightly overdone toast, yum! For some reason if goes even better with slightly overdone toast.

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