There is this really poor guy walks down the Fifth Ave, by the open air café where they serve really fancy French crapes with all kind of side filings like beluga caviar and rose pedal jam, and some other stuff so fancy that he has never even heard of it. The aroma is amazing, the looks on the faces of complete joy. After walking by for few days he can’t stand it anymore. He comes home and asks his wife to make some.
The good wife, that she is runs back to the place, bags the chef for the recipe comes home and starts working on the crape. Then she discovers that she doesn’t have any fine bleached highest grade white flour, all she has some unbleached multigrain flour so she tells her husband about the problem.
He is so anxious so he doesn’t care; “just make them already, who cares what flour it is”.
As she proceeds she discovers she doesn’t have the essence of lemon juice, but only vinegar, again he tells her “no problem”. No refine sugar - “no problem, just skip the sugar”, no sour cream, only miracle whip - “fine, fine, fine” he nearly screams, “just hurry up, I can’t wait to taste the crapes”.
Well, the crapes are finally done, he seats down to the table grabs the fork bites into the crape…
“You know honey; I really cannot understand those rich people, what did they ever find in these crapes…”
You are what you eat.