Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Apparently...
...I'm twelve years old.
I didn't know this until it was pointed out to me. I mean, I have personal memories of Nixon's resignation and the Bicentennial and the attempted assassinations of Reagan and the Pope. I'm pretty sure twelve year olds don't possess such memories.
But - and this was a while ago - I went to lunch with a friend at a sandwich place, ordered my usual veggie sandwich on French roll and bag o' chips. We sat down and I prepared my sandwich in my accustomed manner: lift top piece of bread, place enough potato chips on open sandwich to cover veggies, close sandwich, eat. Add chips as needed. Other sorts of chips will do, but potato chips are the best for sandwich insertion. They're light and crispy and will crunch in a most satisfying manner with little work on my part (corn and tortilla chips require more effort in the biting department).
My friend looked at me, bemused. "I used to like to put chips on my sandwich. When I was twelve."
My eyes widened incredulously. "Oh, but a sandwich like this isn't complete without chips. You've got to have the crunch."
She just shook her head and we continued with other conversations without incident. But it did get me to remembering my other childhood foods. I wondered why they never made it to adulthood. After thinking about the taste sensations, I stopped wondering.
Some of them I still resurrect every once in a while. Toast with melted butter and cinnamon sugar. Cottage cheese with tomatoes. Baked potatoes smothered in corn, butter and garlic salt. Okay, that last one I have about once a month.
But others? Are foods only a child would love.
Remember how Laverne on Laverne and Shirley swore by milk and Pepsi? I tried it and loved it. It tasted like root beer, except creamier. Anything that tasted creamy and root-beer-like was a-ok by me.
I loved to put things on bread. White bread, of course, but rarely Wonder Bread. Wonder Bread was a little too expensive for my military-salaried father. Unfortunately a couple of the spreads were truly questionable. You'd think margarine and sugar wouldn't be a big deal, right? My method - pile on enough margarine so that teeth marks can be seen when bitten into, sprinkle lots of sugar, eat. Today I cringe at that.
But not as much as my favorite. I warn you, this is not for the weak of stomach. Take two pieces of white bread. Cover thickly with Miracle Whip. Liberally douse with granulated sugar. Eat. Wash down with milk or root beer (or milk and Pepsi).
I loved the contrast of tangy, creamy and sweet, the soft, soft bread and, of course, the crunch of the sugar.
It always comes back to the crunch. Which is why I will always probably be twelve at heart.
No one takes away my potato chip/veggie sandwich.
I didn't know this until it was pointed out to me. I mean, I have personal memories of Nixon's resignation and the Bicentennial and the attempted assassinations of Reagan and the Pope. I'm pretty sure twelve year olds don't possess such memories.
But - and this was a while ago - I went to lunch with a friend at a sandwich place, ordered my usual veggie sandwich on French roll and bag o' chips. We sat down and I prepared my sandwich in my accustomed manner: lift top piece of bread, place enough potato chips on open sandwich to cover veggies, close sandwich, eat. Add chips as needed. Other sorts of chips will do, but potato chips are the best for sandwich insertion. They're light and crispy and will crunch in a most satisfying manner with little work on my part (corn and tortilla chips require more effort in the biting department).
My friend looked at me, bemused. "I used to like to put chips on my sandwich. When I was twelve."
My eyes widened incredulously. "Oh, but a sandwich like this isn't complete without chips. You've got to have the crunch."
She just shook her head and we continued with other conversations without incident. But it did get me to remembering my other childhood foods. I wondered why they never made it to adulthood. After thinking about the taste sensations, I stopped wondering.
Some of them I still resurrect every once in a while. Toast with melted butter and cinnamon sugar. Cottage cheese with tomatoes. Baked potatoes smothered in corn, butter and garlic salt. Okay, that last one I have about once a month.
But others? Are foods only a child would love.
Remember how Laverne on Laverne and Shirley swore by milk and Pepsi? I tried it and loved it. It tasted like root beer, except creamier. Anything that tasted creamy and root-beer-like was a-ok by me.
I loved to put things on bread. White bread, of course, but rarely Wonder Bread. Wonder Bread was a little too expensive for my military-salaried father. Unfortunately a couple of the spreads were truly questionable. You'd think margarine and sugar wouldn't be a big deal, right? My method - pile on enough margarine so that teeth marks can be seen when bitten into, sprinkle lots of sugar, eat. Today I cringe at that.
But not as much as my favorite. I warn you, this is not for the weak of stomach. Take two pieces of white bread. Cover thickly with Miracle Whip. Liberally douse with granulated sugar. Eat. Wash down with milk or root beer (or milk and Pepsi).
I loved the contrast of tangy, creamy and sweet, the soft, soft bread and, of course, the crunch of the sugar.
It always comes back to the crunch. Which is why I will always probably be twelve at heart.
No one takes away my potato chip/veggie sandwich.
Comments:
Post a Comment
Registered!
This is my blogchalk:
United States, California, Los Angeles, San Fernando Valley, English, Carol, Female, 36-40.
