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Kara Kara Pork Ramen

Today, we received a humorous email from our Human Resources lady:

“Please don’t eat your co-worker’s food/leftovers/condiments. I am dismayed that I continue to get random complaints about food gone missing from the refrigerators here. STOP IT!”

Emails like that just tickle me pink.

Especially that last part. “STOP IT!” Like a spanking on the tushy for throwing our binky on the floor.

To picture those poor starving souls sneaking into the kitchen for a mid afternoon snack, unaware of the two cameras (no joke) watching them take my rancid leftovers (that had sat too long in my hot car before I was like “Oh, shit!” and ran back to the garage to retrieve them), makes me smile.

I wasn’t even going to eat them (just waiting for them to grow old enough to toss) and now this thieving individual will be bound to the restroom for the good part of the afternoon, because he dared snatch my petrie dish!

The shocking fact is that these warnings from our HR rep come out all too often. Mustard jars ravaged, milk supplies dwindling, yogurts kidnapped.

That ancient, frosty burrito finally seized from it’s arctic bed, inciting yet another Amber Alert from HR.

It’s an epidemic of boundaries being crossed. What’s yours is mine.

Someone thinks the refrigerator contains community foodstuffs.

Yes, that withered Caesar salad and expired vegan cheese was purchased by the company for your enjoyment.

I once experimented and made an Italian sausage and peanut sauce dish for lunch, which turned out HORRIFICALLY.

By 11 a.m. that morning, I had discovered it and the glass pyrex dish which lovingly contained this culinary abomination, had vanished.

I just wanted to see if any of my friends would be dumb enough to taste it.

Apparently, someone was.

CHABUYA:

Really delicious soup, supposed to be a bit spicy. Wasn’t remotely. But tasty nonetheless! Upscale setting, friendly staff, no complaints!

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Pork Gyoza, I wanna get to know ya