Peckish?

Slightly Bemused writes:

It has been a week of anniversaries, some sad, some not so.

A year ago last week I had to go to hospital, and on entering A&E had an incident. Best place to have it, you could say. Right in front of some of the best people in the country to deal with it. And deal with it they did. To wit: I am still here, and as far as I can tell still in the fullness of my faculties.

I may have forgotten, but they did not. They followed up, and despite the attack on their systems they did not forget me. This culminated in me having a brain MRI (yes, apparently I do have one) and an EEG (to prove it works). Down the list as priority patients were dealt with first, this saga ended in February.

So last Friday I got a call out of the blue. Apparently, despite many physical head injuries over the years, my brain has no traumas, and seems to be ticking along just fine, according the electrics thingy. So all my eccentricities are my own, it seems.

Strangely, after receiving this very assuring news I ended up in a strange funk. I did not know whether to feel happy, sad, despondent, or whatever. I stared at the wall for a short while before other parts of me reminded me food was needed, But what food.

Before the funk I had bought two pieces of steak and, separately, cream. Along with my other staples. I had plenty to eat, but what? For tonight of the funk, what could pick me up out of it? So I went to that great sage and oracle of all things food Little Slightly.

“Hi sweetheart. I have to admit to feeling a little down, despite the earlier news. And it is horrible outside (though nothing like what you had earlier). Trying to decide on food for the evening. Steak and bratkartoffeln, or pasta cheese. both unhealthy. Any advice would be gratefully accepted 🙂 Love, Dad”

Her answer was one word:

“Steak.”

Not even an exclamation mark, a statement of profound decision. There can be no other!

So steak it was. With bratkartoffeln, and it was lovely.

Of course, time being what it is, I had the pasta cheese the next day. Maybe not mac and cheese, but I liked it, and the second steak on Sunday in a lovely pepper sauce.

The best mac and cheese I ever had was with my aunt and cousins, and I still think of it to this day! But a lovely Swiss lady taught me how to make a cheap and cheerful version when stuck. A small bit of cream, a few triangles of cheese (Laughing Cow was her go-to) and sprinkle in the shreddings of your personal taste version – cheddar, blue, whatever. It works, and I am convinced that is what she did for fondue that time.

In many places I have been the best food is the simplest. I do not need any stars for my food. As My Mum used say, an empty plate is the best applause.

Slightly Bemused‘s column appears here every Wednesday.

Pic by Slightly