At This Year’s Grammys Charcuterie Conspiracy Theories Took The Prize

Welcome to this month’s The Teakster

Read to discover...

Why no one ate from the charcuterie boards at this year’s Grammys

How I learned it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all

Let's begin...

Look at all these scrumptious fruits, veggies, cheeses, nuts and crackers piled high on the tables of all the Grammy nominees.

 

 

You’d expect after the award ceremony had ended there’d only be crumbs left on the charcuterie boards.

Well, it appears expectations and reality don’t harmonize at the Grammys.

According to published reports…

Virtually all the charcuterie (which no longer means cured meats, but rather anything you can grab with your fingers and stuff in your mouth) was left untouched.

And no explanation as to why has been offered, much less published.

But here’s what we do know…

Roughly a week before the event, the Grammys contacted Silverlake Socialite, a Los Angeles charcutier, to prepare 125 charcuterie boards.

Impressively, each board had over 20 ingredients.

The fruits included berries, kiwis, blood oranges, figs, dried mango and apricot.

There was also nutty aged gouda, aged sharp cheddar accompanied by Italian salt crackers and apricot-pistachio crackers.

There were sesame-glazed cashews and chocolate-covered almonds, among other nuts.

Careful attention was paid to how each piece of fruit was cut and placed

For example, pomegranate seeds were sprinkled on raspberries; both whole and half strawberries were used for dimension; figs were cut in half to display their pink color; and blood oranges were cut into quarters so they could be placed in the corners to create movement.

Cucumbers were placed under grapes for a bright pop of green.

But noticeably absent – meat! The original charcuterie.

Because, apparently, many stars are vegan, or at least vegetarian.

 

Also absent: anything that might be gooey or sticky and therefore messy.

For example, jams and dips such as hummus.

After all, who’d want to soil their just received Grammy with artichoke dip, or stain their $10,000 rented (or bought) outfit with hummus, or shake the hand of someone who didn’t wipe the jelly off their hands (or mouths, if prone to kissing cheeks).

The point being, these charcuterie boards were well thought out and designed.

They were not a harried housewife’s attempt at creating an “everything but the kitchen sink charcuterie board.”

 

Well then…

Because Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Alex Cross, Philip Marlow among others aren't available to solve…

The Mysterious Case of the Uneaten Charcuterie 

 

I’ve compiled a charcuterie board of reasons (sorry, couldn’t resist) as to what might’ve been the culprit.

However, if you think I’ve overlooked a plausible, or implausible reason, please provide your nominee in the comment section below.

8 Possible Reasons the Grammy Charcuterie Wasn’t Eaten

#1. The charcuterie boards were too perfect, so all the nominees thought the charcuterie were inedible, i.e., plastic decorations

#2. Nobody wanted to be photographed chewing with their mouths open, much less be seen with food falling out of their pie holes when they were talking or laughing

#3. No one wanted to be seen picking sunflower seeds out from between their capped teeth.

#4. Nobody wanted to risk breaking their capped teeth on the assorted nuts

#5. No one wanted to be first to dive in, afraid others at the table would think they’re being rude or gauche, as in: didn’t your mother teach you any manners?

#6. No one told them there’d be food, so everyone ate before they arrived 

#7. They were afraid they’d knock over the piled-high sliced pears

#8. No napkins

Tell me what you think the reason was in the comment section below.

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Now, on to our scintillating saga… The Truth, Episode #11…

BTW, if you’re new to this captivating story about how I became the biggest ______ [fill in the blank]

Read it from the beginning, starting with Episode #1.

Or, wait till Benedict Cumberbatch plays me in the yet to be made Netflix movie of the same name.

Oh, let me remind you...

This gorgeous charcuterie board pictured below - is now on sale at a ridiculously BIG discount?

Ok, the commercial is over.

THE TRUTH, Episode #11

If you recall, in Episode #10…

I’d been fired on my first day as a waiter at Jerusalem’s Inter-Continental hotel because two hard-boiled eggs rolled off my shoulder-held serving-tray into a glass of tomato juice, which splashed all over the gentleman I was serving.

Vegas would’ve paid out big on the odds of that happening.

Personally, I thought it was hysterical, as did the gentleman’s wife.

The hotel disagreed.

So I found another job as a bartender (never had been that either) in a restaurant inside the newly built Jerusalem Theater.

Marcel was the restaurant’s hyper-fastidious owner.

On my first night, and for my first order, Marcel asked me to pour 12 Campari’s for a private party.

I had no clue what a Campari was, other than that it was red, and in a bottle on the shelf behind me.

Obviously, I didn’t know how to serve it.

So, I winged it.

I grabbed 12 martini glasses and filled each one to the brim, then walked them on a tray (using two hands this time) to the party’s table.

Marcel stopped me in my tracks.

As Marcel loudly, and insultingly proclaimed (he called me an idiot—which my mother also fairly regularly called me), Campari should be served in a tall glass with soda and a lemon twist.

 

 

So, I brought back the tray with the 12 Campari’s, set it down to the side, and watched Marcel prepare the Campari’s “properly,” and deliver it to the table.

Well, I didn’t know what to do with those 12 double-shots of Campari’s. So, to hide the evidence of my ineptitude … I drank them.

Every last foul, bitter-tasting one of them.

Marcel sent me home after he found me on my hands and knees.

But he didn’t fire me.

Instead, the next night, Marcel introduced me to Helen, an usher in the theater.

Helen looked vaguely familiar.

As it turned out, she too was from the Bronx. She too had attended the High School of Performing Arts, and she too rode the “D” train home after school.

And that’s where I had seen her. Numerous times.

On the “D” train

 

 

She was a freshman at PA, and I was a senior, and, I’ll be honest, she was plain and unremarkable looking. 

But now, standing in the lobby of the theater in a very alluring uniform (a short, short skirt, blouse and vest), there was nothing unremarkable about her.

She was beautiful. Stunning. Sexy, with long blond tresses, and hypnotizing green eyes.

I was mesmerized. I fell head over heels for her.

As for Helen’s parents, who had emigrated to Israel shortly after Helen had, our relationship was…different. Extraordinary.

Her mother loved me.

Her father hated me.

In the Bronx, Helen’s father had owned a small grocery store.

 

 

And he wouldn’t hesitate to chase a customer out the door if he caught her squeezing all his melons. 

He made it clear, metaphorically speaking, that Helen was his melon, too.

But that didn’t stop me.

He also made it clear to Helen - all the time - that I was not good enough for her.

Now understand, Helen adored her father and was devoted to him.

Nonetheless, I was often invited over to their apartment for Friday night dinner.

Helen’s parents were "observant"Jews, originally from Poland.

Not surprisingly, they spoke Yiddish, the near-dead language of older East European Jews.

That Helen, a nineteen-year-old vixen could also speak Yiddish—and sound like my grandmother—that totally floored me.

Yet, in a strange way, it was also comforting.

As was the way Helen would mother me, or more accurately, scold me—for being, as she would say, a luftmensch. Not having both my feet on the ground.

A Fiddler on the Roof

 

It bothered her that I was aimlessly going through life. A college dropout with no plans, and no ambition.

She, on the other hand, was a full-time student at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.

Hebrew University of Jerusalem

 

 

Anyway, I was crazy about her, and wanted to marry her.

During the summer she went off to rendezvous with her older sister in Europe. Her big sister, who still lived in the U.S. and had never married.

As Helen told it, her father had sucked the love she could have for another man out of her.

My greatest fear was he would do the same to Helen.

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In next month’s The Teakster: The Truth, Episode #12, I’ll tell you the rest of the story. 

In the meantime, please let me know in the comments section below if you enjoyed reading this month’s Episode #11 of The Truth.

Until next month...

Stay teak strong!