Ever since the Seinfeld episode about “these pretzels are making me thirsty” I’ve had what you could call a mild obsession with pretzels. I don’t actually eat them much, I just like talking about pretzels. Good conversation starter. But upon closer inspection my rapport with pretzels is very peculiar. I really like big pretzels, the soft kind you’d get at a ball game with cheese dip, but I really dislike the small, dry kind they give you on the plane. I can’t think of any other food that I love so much in one variation but find so yucky in the other. The big ones are so chewy, you can practically see steam come out when you take a bite. The small ones are so bland, what’s the point? They provide zero satisfaction. Read More