Food

[stoutfellow]

Sometimes I get a little insecure about my tastes in food.

At age 46, I still like peanut butter. I buy 40 oz. jars of Jif Extra Crunchy and consume them in about two weeks. I eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I eat peanut butter sandwiches. I eat it with a spoon. I smear it on celery. If there's no bread, I'll smear it on a slice of cheese and eat it that way.

I like root beer. The department secretary keeps the fridge in the faculty lounge stocked with soft drinks. (We pay her $.50 a can.) At my request, she makes sure there are always a few cans of A&W in there. I think she smirks behind my back.

I like macaroni and cheese; it's one of my comfort foods. Stouffer's and Marie Callender make fish/mac & cheese dinners, and I buy one maybe once a month.

I get to feeling like one of the great unwashed when I think about these things.

But then I get to thinking something else. I've eaten and enjoyed escargot in Paris, rijstafel in Amsterdam, and bouillabaisse in Marseilles. I've had spaghetti carbonara in Rome, calamari in Venice, and truite almondine in Tours. I've eaten shortbread on the island of Mull. (I've also eaten poi on Oahu, but I didn't enjoy that.) I've made my own pad thai, frittata, and lasagna (with and without spinach). I make two kinds of quiche, and I've even baked my own bread, although not in quite a while. [NB: I'm not bragging; I'm strictly a by-the-book cook. The only virtues I can claim here are a willingness to try things and the ability to follow instructions.]

I still like peanut butter, and root beer, and mac & cheese; but I'm not so insecure about it after that.

Comments

[stoutfellow.livejournal.com]

I also love grilled cheese with tomato soup.

Mmm, yes. (Drat, now I've got to go to the store ASAP.)