Most weeknights, I arrive home after ten. That's too late to start cooking if I want to get anything done before I got to sleep.
So I stop at the deli by the train and pick up a salad. It's the kind of deli where you choose your lettuce or spinach, then pick from a counter of fresh veggies and fruits. The deli guy mixes it up for you and then passes it to the cashier.
On Thursday night, I'd been hungrier than usual. And it was getting chilly out.
"What kind of hot food do you have?" The deli guy, who'd started heading towards the salad section when I'd walked in, stopped and pointed to the specials.
"Beef stew, meatloaf, baked chicken, burritos, and two sides - vegetables, potatoes, corn."
"How about... oh, meatloaf, veggies, and potatoes."
He filled up a carry-out tray and handed it to the cashier.
Stunned, she looked at me and sputtered "But I thought you only ate salad!"
Maybe it's time to branch out.
1 comment:
It was a meatloaf salad, warmed up.
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