THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE MARINADE

By JAMES TENAFLY

When you make a fine, quasi-chunky sauce to sell at market, it is best not to invoke the legacy of a man whose corporeal remains consisted, in part, of a teeth-and-brain bisque peppered with gun powder. Moreover, it may be advisable to avoid branding products containing merlot, chardonnay, and champagne with the image of a man known, in part, as a consummate alcoholic. Evidently, though, this sage marketing advice is lost on the makers of Ernest Hemingway Marinades. From the looks of it, the Ernest Hemingway Collection may have resulted from a cursory glance at the Cliff Notes for The Old Man and the Sea and the resulting notion that Hemingway was kinda like Wolfgang Puck, but with, like, writing instead of soup. Whatever the impetus, at least I know now how to best season a certain extremely rare cutlet I was inspired to procure by The Sun Also Rises. (Spoiler Warning: The previous sentence contains a dick joke).