My mealtime enigma
Supper, this evening, is a small enigma. Not because I didn’t enjoy it; I did. Cleaned the plate right off. I’t mare of an identify question. What did I eat? Depends on who you ask.
Was it a meat pie? Or a pastry (pastie)? How about a hand pie, as they are marketed in the area. I didn’t check the package, which forced me to ask. And what I had wasn’t what I thought, going in. Let’s go with some basics. There was pastry, and a meat filling. Everything went with my side of mustard pickles. Too hot to hold in the hand, and the need for an oven precludes using this as a mid-afternoon snack, had I been plowing my field. I was asked if this should be added to our regular menu, and I like the idea. Just don’t look for me to give you a name.
I don’t experiment much with meals. That phase was wonderful, back when I was still learning what suited me, but now I want regular. Meat and potatoes. Soup that doesn’t ask too many questions. Milk. I still do milk, and not in my coffee. I’m not hard to please. And I rarely require repeat portions. At this age, any extra body bulk will stay with my until I die (if it doesn’t kill me first).
It precludes embarking on a cruise with unlimited buffet access. I’d never get my money’s worth out of the fare. Yes, I’m in a phase of watching cruise videos. Algorithm suggestions, or something. I prefer being safe on shore, here on my island. Now that we have that “confounded bridge”, waiting for the cast off horn is just a memory. I do wonder when the next cruise will pass by my windows. Part of the charm.
