Saturday, February 11, 2006
The day I lost egg salad
So, as a child, there was always a meal that we could have as a last resort. We could always count on a tasty hard-boiled egg salad sandwich if menu creativity and cookbook surfing failed. I was never really in the mood for it, but when my mom finally took the toasted Wonderbread out of the toaster oven, we were ready to dig in.
As the independent girl; unable to commit, unable to decide and unable to compromise, I was sitting away and thinking to myself, “well as a last resort, I could always end up with...” Growing up with a backup menu prepared me perfectly for this life. Just as a child I had a last resort meal, I’ve also always had a back-burner guy. Sometimes, I was even excited for the backup. A few times, I may have even planned ahead to indulge. I could never follow through, I don’t like mayonnaise that much. But knowing it was there always made my menu choice not seem so bad.
Even when I ended up accidentally consuming fish sauce or worse, going out with a government attorney, I always had that backup. I always knew I had a tasty dinner and a guy that made me laugh on the back burner, waiting to be brought up front.
So what happens when your back-burner guy jumps to the front of someone else’s stove? What happens when my egg salad sandwich becomes someone else’s quiche? The problem with a girl who is entirely too willing to pop someone from front and center to the back burner, is that sometimes flavors don’t gel together back there. When left unattended, your back burner meal can turn and you end up being separate, as separate as white and yolk.
As the independent girl; unable to commit, unable to decide and unable to compromise, I was sitting away and thinking to myself, “well as a last resort, I could always end up with...” Growing up with a backup menu prepared me perfectly for this life. Just as a child I had a last resort meal, I’ve also always had a back-burner guy. Sometimes, I was even excited for the backup. A few times, I may have even planned ahead to indulge. I could never follow through, I don’t like mayonnaise that much. But knowing it was there always made my menu choice not seem so bad.
Even when I ended up accidentally consuming fish sauce or worse, going out with a government attorney, I always had that backup. I always knew I had a tasty dinner and a guy that made me laugh on the back burner, waiting to be brought up front.
So what happens when your back-burner guy jumps to the front of someone else’s stove? What happens when my egg salad sandwich becomes someone else’s quiche? The problem with a girl who is entirely too willing to pop someone from front and center to the back burner, is that sometimes flavors don’t gel together back there. When left unattended, your back burner meal can turn and you end up being separate, as separate as white and yolk.
