I need to eat something.
I have a stupid high metabolism. Always have. Hypoglycemic high, even. It was inherited. Hungry sneaks up on me like a kitchen ninja, who sneaks up on you while you’re staring into the fridge. A really boring ninja.
Food is always boring. Boring like that ninja in your kitchen.
Unless I’m actually hungry, because… hypoglycemia. Except on THIS day, I haven’t been to the grocery store for 5 days past when all the food I want to eat is gone.
When I’m hungry, food becomes almost exciting. Not like most people… okay, people who aren’t me… think of as exciting. Not like 5-Star dining with a whisky bar the size of the closed end of the LA Coliseum exciting. More like, I have a can of refried black beans with jalapenos, a 6 month old frozen slice of beef brisket, 2 eggs, a jar of salsa past its expiration date, and a few street taco sized corn tortillas, exciting.
Kinda like the ‘I’m hungry and can’t go anywhere’ version of Food Network’s Chopped. I become competitive with myself. The-contestant-judging-himself kind of competitive. Where the only win at the end of the game is, did I like it enough to eat it. On this day, I did. And, a little secret, I’m getting good at making my own pan fried tostadas.
Apologies to all my Keto brothers and sisters.
So, since you can’t all eat my homemade desperation cooking, here’s a bonus picture. Sorry if I’m too hungry to talk about it, anymore. And now that I’ve eaten, let’s see what kind of trouble I can get into for Hour 5.
© Copyright 2018 William S. Friday