Bon Appetit

by Stephanie Black

Well. How does one follow a blog on Coke and migraines? I think the word “migraine” should be banned. Just saying it is tempting fate. I used to get the headaches-that-must-not-be-named frequently as a teenager, but now, thank heavens, they’re much more rare. But I still get them. I still fear them when I get a flash of bright sunlight in my eyes and see spots. Innocent glare or ominous aura? That aura just adds insult to injury. It’s like a taunting message from your body saying, “Stay tuned! Pretty soon you’re going to want to ram an ice pick into your skull! Have a nice day!” Shudder. I gotta ask for a prescription for Imitrex one of these days.

Okay, enough. I’ll talk about something different. I ate a bug last night. I didn’t mean to eat it, but it flew right into my mouth while I was out for an evening walk. I acked and hacked and blecched, but it wasn’t going anywhere except down. It tasted really weird, too. I feel just like Eric from The Counterfeit who sucks down a bug while riding Maurice, his moped.

My sister’s family once ate bugs on purpose, or at least some of them did. Some of them partook in ignorance. The bugs in question were chocolate-covered crickets that Dad brought home from work. The candy looked tasty enough, something like a fat peppermint patty. The two younger kids wolfed a cricket down, no questions asked. The oldest noticed the label on the box and wanted to know why it said ‘crickets.’ Dad explained, and managed to talk her into eating the candy anyway. She reported that it was kind of crunchy. Dad ate one too. The candy came with stickers that proclaimed something like, “I ate a bug.” My sister elected to pass. Wimp!

Okay, I would have passed too. I wouldn’t even try foie gras when I had the chance.

But speaking of food, don't you love authors who do a superb job describing culinary delights--and who make them both a relevant and fascinating part of the story? Take Farmer Boy in Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House series. Oh, the meals! I want apple pie for breakfast too, and sausage, and stacked pancakes where you pile them up with maple sugar between each cake. And there’s Diane Mott Davidson with her Goldy the caterer mysteries. I once made Monster Cinnamon Rolls from Davidson's recipe, and oh my. Step aside Cinnabon. Don't ever read a Goldy mystery if you're trying to lose weight. LDS mystery writer Betsy Brannon Green has started including recipes in her Miss Eugenia mysteries as well.

Man, it must be lunchtime. I'm hungry. About that goal I just made to get in better shape . . .

As a side note that has nothing to do with anything, I had to play the eighties hit "Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor over and over again on iTunes to keep my toddler amused so I could finish this blog.