Perchance to Dream

I am not one to engage in new or unusual cuisine. Odd or interesting gastronomical delights do not delight me. So why was I dreaming of bizarre foods last night?

I don't remember much of what was on the menu. We do tend to forget dreams, and that's generally just as well. But one bizarre food I distinctly recall was given me by, of all people, me brother Patrick, a man of limited and quite sharply defined tastes. It was a sandwich of vanilla wafers, mayonnaise, melted cheese, peanut butter (a super thick layer), and a chicken nugget. Or perhaps it was a fish nugget, I'm not sure. You know how dreams have that unreal quality, right?

Still, it was one of those dreams which was so real I could almost taste the food. I am just as glad I could not. Still, if I find Patrick eating such a sandwich today, I will begin doing all I can to wake myself up.

Potted meat and liver mush

I do not have what I consider unusual tastes in food. Yet that does not mean that there aren't odd foods which I like.

My wife returned from shopping today with a couple cans of potted meat. I should not like it: meat which spreads like butter doesn't sound appealing on that ground alone. Yet it's good: way too salty, perhaps, but I like salty things. There is one rule to follow, though, with stuff like potted meat. Do not, under any circumstances, read the ingredients. Just eat and enjoy. Nothing that tastes good could actually be bad for you, right?

Now you really, truly do not want to read the ingredients in liver mush. Yes, liver mush. It comes in little grayish one pound cakes and is available all over my other home state, North Carolina. I think it's called scrapple on the east coast. Either way, it's mondo good with onion and mayo on plain old white bread. You simply slice a bit of it off the cake and hey presto, instant culinary delight. Just always remember the rule.

Vienna Sausages are worthwhile too, though I suppose they aren't really all that odd. I think of them as baby food for grown ups, just like the Gerber custard pudding that rocks so well on the palate. But once more, don't read the label on the can. I am eternally curious about what exactly constitutes mechanically separated chicken though.

So anyway, at least every now and then take a chance, set aside health issues, and eat something that's probably not good for you. You'll thank for me it, and I promise to visit you in the ER if there's any unfortunate aftereffects.