I can’t choose a favorite food because I like variety and unless I am on death row getting my last meal, I don’t really know what I want to eat. If it was my last meal and I had to choose, I would pick Beef Wellington with a baked potato, green bean almondine because it rhymes and a baked Alaska for dessert. Eating is not simple like putting gas in your car when your gauge tells you that it is getting low and a whole gambit of considerations come into play when I get hungry. I usually plan my meals out and I want to eat food that I enjoy, but since I have type II diabetes, I try to be conscious of the health concerns involved in what I eat. Most of the time when I cook, I look for convenience, cost, and variety and quantities that will not take up my whole refrigerator, or make more than three left over meals for me. I like all types of foods and I don’t have a favorite appetizer, a favorite entrée, a favorite snack, and I could never even try to choose a favorite dessert.
There is still one family tradition that I have followed for my whole life, which was started by my dad and this involves eating spaghetti on the opening Sunday of football season every year. Besides having football games on Sunday, it is also played on Thursday and Monday and although the 2020 season will start on Thursday, September 10th with the Chiefs hosting the Texans, I will make my spaghetti on Sunday, September 13th, even if the season is cancelled due to Covid-19. I use a sauce made from a jar and thickened with paste and I make my own meatballs and I usually add some sweet Italian sausage. I could probably eat spaghetti once a month, but it tastes better when you don’t have it all the time.
I should probably mention that I don’t like onions, I don’t like they way they look, or the way that they smell and I won’t eat them. I won’t bother picking around them, because that nasty flavor seeps into everything that they touch. My dad thought that I was being finicky, so he told my mom to cut up the onions up into really tiny pieces thinking that I wouldn’t taste them that way, but I gaged on them and almost puked. My mom always made me special meals without onions after that and only a mom has that much love in her. I can clearly state that onions are my least favorite food. If you are what you eat, the last thing that I want to be is a putrid onion.
Written for Fandango’s Dog Days of August FDDA #10 where the prompt is your favorite food.