This song from Abbey Road reminds me of trudging to Smelling Hall [ an eatery on campus ( Truck U. ) ] and devouring all the goodies at my disposal. It was my first time away from home, so I was free from the authoritarian rule of my mother.
I could eat anything I wanted. Even got to put my choice of salad dressing on my salad. Mom liked french; I hated it. And to this day-no french for me.
Give me roquefort, er, bleu cheese or ranch. Sometimes thousand islands but never french. Arghhhhhhhh!
Life is a banquet, eh? v.c.
P.S. The Dawgs got screwed in the BCS. Hawaii? Truck U.
1 comment:
Your mention of roquefort brought back a great memory for me.
My first real job was selling imported cheeses in a cheese and wine retail store in Florida. A wonderful family responsible for much of my early adult development were an alternative role model to my own and encouraged me in ways that my own family had not.
On a visit with them soon after I started with the cheese business I brought as a house gift half a wheel of imported roqufort cheese. The hostess was not only pleased and impressed, she made a salad that night over which she served the cheese, holding the half-wheel over each plate and scraping off a generous amount using a table fork. I was very impressed watching how this gourmet cook was able to handle this treasure so appropriately.
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