Dreamt of cheeseburgers last night. In exhaustive, loving, greasy detail. (Then I rolled over and dreamt that my stepmother was remodeling their [imaginary] townhouse while having a classic VW Beetle pimped out, but that’s another story.) The BRAT(y) diet is obviously getting to me deep down. On the other hand, it is helping me a lot.
Yesterday I was daring and made egg salad. H— had recently brought me some homemade sweet, hot relish, so I used that plus a dash of olive oil mayonnaise. Then I made a sandwich with a section of toasted baguette, the “T” in BRAT(y).
What, did you think I was going to eat Wonder Bread?
Everything went okay, other than maybe a tad more rumbling down below, but within the BRAT(y) norms.
I’m now at the point in my cycle where I can probably resume eating most foods. Which is going to be put to the test today, as our region’s slightly retro, more-or-less sustainable and locally sourced burger chain Burgerville is having a 50-year price rollback today. My Dad wants to go bust out the nostalgia on cheap cheeseburgers. A family outing is in order this afternoon. I may be overcome with enthusiasm and have a salad as well. More to the point, I can for a few moments fulfill my dreams of eating boy food once more.
The question is whether I’ll spend a few hours or days paying for it.