addictive mofo: nutritional yeast

I apologize if someone’s already done this, the whole nooch lines thing. I’ve never seen it, but it seems so obvious. When you love nutritional yeast, you loooooooove nutritional yeast. And when you hate it, you can’t imagine how anyone would like it. (But like so many things, that’s how wars get started, so let’s just all be cool and respect one another. OK? OK.)

I was recently out at a business meeting (read: bar) and we ordered chips and salsa. When they arrived, my tablemate Janessa pulled out a baggie of nutritional yeast. “Do you guys mind?” As if she had to ask. Was she crazy for carrying her own stash? No! She’s a friggin’ genius! I beat myself up for not being the one to think of it. I was a girl scout; I should know better. So many times I’ve bemoaned the lack of this clearly necessary condiment. Why bemoan when you can bring your own?

My quest is on to find a suitable carrying case so I can be just as cool as Janessa. I simply don’t trust a plastic bag in my satchel of sharp and heavy things. Probably one of those locking-top containers. Or a flask—that’d be pretty dope, pulling out a flask so you could sprinkle on some tangy goodness.

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