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Comfort Food

It’s a funny thing about being away :  When I come “home” to the US, I catch myself “missing” food I used to take for granted.  I want tastes that are familiar.  Sweetness that’s sinful; saltiness that shoots your blood pressure out of the stadium; and deep-fries that churn out oil shamelessly, in OPEC proportions.  I want huge chunky pieces in my ice cream, drippin’ juiciness in my hotdogs, everything with “everything on it” overflowing from containers that can barely contain all that weight.  Yup.  I want the all the overload and diversity that American food is known for.   

And all this gets deadlier in CowTown (can you guess yet where that is?) — where I drive down to everytime I fly back to Chicago.  Middle America is not known for healthy food.  Not here where you can buy $10 worth of food for $3.  But after a stressful day taking care of client’s needs, I feel the need to reward myself with comfort food.  Now more than ever, when I will be returning soon to a country where I can buy GBP2.00 worth of food for GBP10.00 –AND be charged 10 pence for ketchup.

Since I arrived less than 10 days ago, I’ve swung quite a broad range of food.  Ethnic to American.  I’ve eaten at ChoGa while in Kansas City (Overland Park, actually, in the “Kansas side” of Kansas City).  I love Korean small plates (“banchan” — appetizers that generously come with your main course) :

and my favorite main dish from that restaurant is the “seafood and mushroom soon to fu.”  Very spicy (*Korean spicy is DANGEROUSLY spicy) and …. healthy. :)

And good ol’ Culvers for a big, fat juicy “Deluxe bacon” hamburger:

and oh-so-comforting dessert, i.e., my strawberry shake —

Yum, yum.  I’m lucky that I have a metabolism that still hasn’t given up on me.  I hope it never does.  There’s too much food out there to enjoy.  And anyway, let’s not forget that on days when I work and overwork, I do the “appropriate” thing of settling for good ol’ this —

La vie est trop courte pour boire du mauvais vin. 


6 thoughts on “Comfort Food

  1. I always think Cowtown is where I live (we have a museum of that name, yes, really we do), but you once mentioned Memphis. Which surprised me. Did I misunderstand?

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