Have you ever had a fried baloney sandwich? When was the last time you had one?
What is a fried baloney sandwich, you ask? It involves two slices of bread, two thick slices of baloney, two slices of American cheese and a healthy dollop of Grey Poupon mustard. The baloney is fried in a skillet. After it turns a slice of cheese is put on it to melt. Once the baloney is nice and almost crispy and the cheese is oozing they are placed atop each other between two slices of untoasted bread with Grey Poupon mustard dumped liberally to the underside of the top piece of bread.
That is how I used to eat it as a kid anyway. I have no idea how other people make them.
I was a kid and was profoundly ignorant of any connection between food and health. To me, then, they were a celebratory treat, reserved for special occasions. Can you imagine that? Fried baloney sandwiches being 'special?'
Now, as a know-it-all adult, I can't imagine putting one of them in my mouth. I mean, really! But there have been a few extremely rare occurrences when I threw caution to the wind and succumbed to the allure of the fried baloney sandwich for the sake of nostalgia.
One of those times was when I found myself staring at a package of baloney while shopping at the grocery store. I don't know why I was looking at the baloney because that is something I never buy. I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps the stars were all out of alignment that day or something. That's back when I was a stay-at-home parent being a servant to a five-year-old girl.
When I got home from the grocery store the baloney was in one of the bags. And yes, it was on the long curly receipt. In trance, perhaps, I purchased baloney and then I prepared fried baloney sandwiches for lunch one day for my little girl.
To my horror, she really, really liked them! I slapped my forehead, "What had I done? Was I planting the seed of unhealthy eating patterns? Was I opening the door to a lifetime addiction? Was I setting a bad example? Was I compromising my daughter's health in any way? As you can see, my noggin was quite active back then. I couldn't get it to shut off sometimes.
Luckily, I did not panic. I resolved to eat the rest of that package of baloney and then be done with it. So for three days my little master and I lunched on fried baloney sandwiches. We never bought baloney again.
Well, except for that one time..... My daughter was nineteen, fresh out of high school. She was living with her soul-mate/husband to be. This was after her parents divorced. She would regularly visit both parents and when she came by to have lunch with me one time she had a grocery bag with her. Inside it was a package of baloney.
With the package of baloney in one hand and a smile/smirk on her face, she said, "I want you to teach me how to make fried baloney sandwiches like you made for us that time."
That was about as close to a heart attack as I've come. I was shocked. I couldn't believe it. She remembered.
She remembered!
Without giving any thought whatsoever to the vital nutritional and vibratory state of baloney, I eagerly indulged an impromptu fried baloney sandwich making class then pigged out on fried baloney sandwiches with my grown-up daughter. She remembered! Fried baloney sandwiches may not be very healthy but that particular day they were extraordinarily healthy.
She remembered.
I've been thinking about calling my daughter all day today. I want to ask her if she has ever made fried baloney sandwiches for her two daughters. If not, I think I'll invite them all over for lunch someday soon.
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