I’m not bloodthirsty, but is bloodhungry a thing?

I’m not hungry right now, but that’s doing little to dampen my desire to eat. Why? Because food is delicious. What larger excuse do I need? I’m so far from being a “food is fuel” person who consumes purely for the nutrients. It’s rare for me to not be thinking about food. Par example, in between that last sentence and this one I got up from my desk, grabbed a mini chocolate egg and sat back down. I’m basically a food ninja. I think about food so often that I even think about other food while I’m eating food. I could be in the middle of a meal and mentally scanning my internal schedule to plan/consider what I’ll eat next. It’s truly one of life’s greatest pleasures. This may sound like a deliberate exaggeration. It’s not.

What foods am I thinking about right now?

  • My girlfriend and I want to try making homemade chicken nuggets tonight. She’s gluten free, which actually works out really well for breading things. The gluten free crumbs have this nice crunchy texture which’ll amp up a lasagne, meatballs or in this case, nuggets. I’m thinking we’ll go the schnitzel route by flattening and cutting a breast up. We’ll cover it in flour, egg and crumbs then bake it all up. Despite my fervent wish that they turned out dinosaur shaped, my artistic skills are barely enough to write my own signature, let alone sculpt this dead bird into remnants of its ancestral heritage. To compensate, we’ll make sweet potato fries and sriracha mayo. Maybe even some green veggies to prove we can nail adult living with aplomb.
  • I heard about the brunch at Hello Darling and it’s making my stomach water and my mouth grumble. My desire to try the eggs shakshuka is so severe that it’s subverting common sayings. Look at that stew-y, warming bastard. Doesn’t that make you want to do nasty, dirty things just to feel cleansed by its savoury goodness? What about that mushroom Wellington? Flaky pastry with hearty mushroom filling, doused in gravy with blueberry relish on the side. Holy fuck.
  • Sandwiches. ALWAYS SANDWICHES. It’s insane how much I love a good sandwich. Give me a dense bread roll (maybe a ciabatta,  or even a challah bun). Slice up some garlic pickles, gouda, beets, a stack of ham or chicken, fresh tomato relish, light spread of mayo and some chilli spice for good measure. HOT DAMN. There is no time I wouldn’t want one. I could’ve just finished a massive sandwich and it’d still be utterly appealing. In fact, creating a Hansel and Gretel style trail of sandwiches would be an assured path to my destruction via stomach explosion.
  • Baby back ribs. I haven’t had BBQ in leagues too long. Ribs are my #1 bestie. They’re just so gloriously tactile to eat. Getting in there with your hands and biting into the soft flesh sends me back to my caveman heritage. The combination of savoury and sweetness takes me places beyond time and space. The sensation of sauce dripping down my hands fills me with the satisfaction that I assume comes with killing for the sake of a meal. I feel powerful, dominant, satiated. Throw in some zesty slaw, fries and a beer on the side and you’ve just found my death row meal. I mean, the death row I would’ve earned by killing for the sake of a meal. WORTH IT.

Goddammit. Clearly I’m gonna rack up a murder charge for resorting to cannibalism on the TTC. If I wasn’t hungry before, I am now. I guess this time next week I’ll be able to write about prison food first hand. Freedom tasted pretty good while it lasted.


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