I’M HUNGRY. It’s time for lunch and it calls upon me to make one of the bigger decisions of my day.
How hungry I am is not a factor in my choice of what I’ll have. I try not to overdo it for two reasons: I don’t want to feel like an overstuffed sofa and I will be having dinner with my wife, the lovely and always tasteful, Dawn, in just a few hours. So, I usually have something “light” for lunch. What I have also depends on what condition my digestive tract is in. There are days when anything even remotely spicy would start a full-scale intestinal rebellion.
Lately, I have been having rice for lunch. It is not spicy and it does not trigger an internal Mt. St. Helen. It allows me to have an afternoon in places other than the bathroom.
If things are really – unpleasant, shall we say, I will spend a few days on the BRAT Diet. Bananas, Rice, Applesauce, and Toast can do wonders to calm things down. It’s not exciting, but that is the point, ain’t it?
If I’m feeling well, and my tum-tum is too, I will toss a couple of frozen egg rolls into the microwave, or even a couple small frozen chimichangas. Oh, what a wildcat I can be.
My Nutritionist, a person who professionally nags me about my weight, would be happy if I lived on a diet more suitable for a third world ascetic, but we both know that has as much a chance of happening as Steve Harvey proclaiming me the new Miss Universe – slim, and unlikely.
My decision for today has been made: Rice with a dash of salsa mixed in. Easy going with a bit of flavor. I’m easy to please. A couple of minutes and I’m head over fork in lunch.
There are some people who eat like Henry the VIII. Duck, Duck, Goose, Behead a wife, Duck, Duck, Goose. I don’t know how they do it. I look upon any lunch that goes beyond a sandwich and chips to be a brobdingnagian banquet. Where are the jesters and jugglers?
My food choices are generally simple and uncomplicated. Because of that, I would not make a good Nomadic Bedouin either. I recall reading about a Bedouin Wedding Feast recipe that called for a chicken stuffed into a goose, stuffed into a goat, stuffed into a sheep, stuffed into a camel and then cooked in a pit. Can I have fries with that? It had better be a big wedding or they’ll be eating leftovers until next Ramadan. And I hear that leftover camel doesn’t keep well, but it does reheat nicely with Bush’s baked beans and an iceberg lettuce wedge.
When it comes to lunch I am satisfied with the pedestrian, the uncomplicated, and the microwaveable. If I can get away with something on a paper plate I’m happy. You can keep your Prime Rib and Yorkshire Pudding noontime luncheons. I’ll stop by the First Wok and pick up some pot stickers or wonton soup. I have nothing against Prime Rib. God knows I’m a proud carnivore. I didn’t claw my way to the top of the food chain to eat like a koala bear. It’s just that, for lunch, a big meal can ruin my afternoon, and if I’m not careful, my upholstery.
Excuse me, my rice is ready. It’s time for my lunch.