Some people eat to live, while others live to eat. What about you? How far would you travel for the best meal of your life?
Hmm…this is an interesting question. The only time I even considered going to the ends of the earth for food was when I was pregnant. Travel, kill, maim they’re all the same … right?
All I know is when these hormonal tastebuds spoke, I listened. Womb service is no joke.
Every single day I HAD to have Kellogg’s Raisin Bran cereal or someone was going to die. Not in an OCD kinda way, but in a murderous sort of way.
Then there was the pasta salad served at a little place several blocks from my building that was as necessary as air during this pregnancy. Rain or shine, snow or sleet, I was getting that damn salad!
Anyone who has ever been with child, or in the presence of someone in this position, knows when the baby wants a ham & swiss cheese sandwich with mustard slathered between two pieces of Jewish rye, you better get it, even if it’s 8 a.m. Hormones do not wear watches.
At the time of my first pregnancy, I was working at a very large law firm in Philadelphia. I had the BEST secretary in the world. She was 100% Italian, which meant she knew how to feed the masses or me when necessary. If the baby started making ridiculous demands at random times during the day. She delivered.
She was my Foody Godmother.
One day I just mentioned a cake that I had at some point in my life, the next thing I knew her brother was standing at my desk with a bakery box. Bam!
If I wanted a juicy navel orange in the middle of February, which I did for most of the month, I got it. I didn’t ask questions, I just ate.
So, to answer the question: I wouldn’t necessarily travel for the best meal of my life, but I certainly would enjoy if it magically appeared on my plate.
Mangia!
Enjoy the Ride …
Life With The Top Down 
one word- cake. another word, anywhere!
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Word!
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Well, I do go to Maine for lobstah. Does that count?
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Indeed it does!
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Lisa, I would not dare stand in the way of your Raisin Bran or navel oranges. My wife wanted Mexican Food. Keith
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To this day my daughter loves Raisin Brand…lol
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I Love Raisin Brand. Does that mean I’m….Is it possible that I’m….?????
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Fun story.
So tell me, do you still hanker for Kellogg’s Raisin Bran?
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I want your old secretary.
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A few years ago when we were traveling to Croatia with friends to their family summer home, one of them raved about a restaurant in the town of Rovinj that had the best Chateaubriand they’d ever had. We made a trip to the town (the town is STUNNING… 300+ yr old buildings, Roman cobbled streets), found the restaurant, and they ordered the much-coveted Chateaubriand. And they were disappointed; it wasn’t the same as they remembered though it was still good.
So, moral of the story? So many food memories are not of the FOOD, but the moment, the place, who we were with, what we were feeling at that time, everything.
Me? I got the gnocchi with tomato sauce. It was delicious, but what I remember more was my friend’s excitement at introducing us to the restaurant, let alone the country that they loved. I remember a beautiful, clear summer night, sultry with a gentle breeze coming off the water. I remember the gondoliers and the small sailboats. The people walking by on the cobbled streets. The shops all lit up for the evening, the sounds of laughter, the diners at the next table who had a pet cat dining with them.
I’ve craved dishes to a state of nearly murderous desire, but having them is rarely the same as when I FIRST had them. It’s the moment that isn’t the same.
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I remember those strange pregnancy cravings and also the turn-offs. I could never eat Chinese food. But Ben & Jerry’s? Oh yes.
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I remember with my daughter I had to have the coffee pot removed from the house. The smell of brewing coffee turned me green. When I was pregnant with my son I considered having a coffee IV line run straight to my veins.
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My wife paid me back for the morning sickness by sending me hunting for fresh apricots.
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I like her already! Thanks for stopping by!
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