Butter and bologna

Me Pops was a simple eater with a simple diet. Burgers, hot dogs, and pizza were high on his list. He was big on fish, which is not a surprise seeing as he was a Catholic raised in the days when all Fridays were, for Churchgoers, meatless.

He loved Mom's spaghetti the most. I'm not saying this to get maudlin, but his last meal at home was her spaghetti. I believe that was good and proper, an alignment of the planets if you will. He loved her fried chicken, regularly lamenting that she didn't make it often enough. I'm with Dad on that, Mom. I wish you'd have made it more.

I don't think he had any unusual food choices. Perhaps the closest if it counts at all was butter and bologna sandwiches. He loved buttered bread, and I remember him having butter and bologna sandwiches quite often. And you know what? It ain't a bad sandwich combo.

Until recently it had been years since I thought of it. But in the last week it's made up my lunch three times. Bologna was on sale at the nearby supermarket so I bought some. When I got home, I saw that we had butter. The light went on above my head. I wonder if Dad's old sandwich recipe was all that? I wondered aloud in my kitchen.

It was.

In search of

All I wanted today was a bologna sandwich. That's all. It's not such a big thing, is it? Not a bucket list sort of want anyway.

I like bologna. Maybe that puts me in a decided minority, but so what? It's just a humble sandwich meat. A slice of cheese and a spot of mayo and boom, easy lunch.

Yet my local supermarket had none this morning. I mean exactly that, too: zilch, zero, nada. No bologna.

How can a big neighborhood store not have bologna? I am totally mystified by that.

I could have run around to another store. But my time is worth something, and being self employed I have to really discipline myself not to abuse my lunch hour in search of what should be readily available, and what I do not have to have anyway. So I went home and had the ramen noodles which were already in the larder.

But still: no bologna? If it wasn't real I say it was unreal.

Pop's cuisine choices

Me Pops was a simple eater with a simple diet. Burgers, hot dogs, and pizza were high on his list. He was big on fish, which is not a surprise seeing as he was a Catholic raised in the days when all Fridays were, for Churchgoers, meatless. He loved Mom's spaghetti the most. I'm not saying this to get maudlin, but his last meal at home was spaghetti. I believe that was good and proper, an alignment of the planets if you will. He loved her fried chicken, regularly lamenting that she didn't make it often enough. I'm with Dad on that, Mom. I wish you'd have made it more.
I don't think he had any unusual food choices. Perhaps the closest if it counts at all was butter and bologna sandwiches. He loved buttered bread, and I remember him having butter and bologna sandwiches quite often. And you know what? It ain't a bad sandwich combo.
Until recently it had been years since I thought of it. But in the last week it's made up my lunch three times. Bologna was on sale at the nearby supermarket so I bought some. When I got home, I saw that we had butter. The light went on above my head. I wonder if Dad's old sandwich recipe was all that? I wondered aloud in my kitchen.
It was. In fact, it will likely be my lunch again today.