Since mid-March, I have been part of a group text with some of my cousins and an aunt. It began during the height of isolation, when everyone was craving human contact. More often than not the texts were photos of what we were having for that meal, because that was about the only normal thing in life or because we were striving to new heights of creativity. I'm not sure which.
The group text continues, at a much slower pace. My contributions mostly consist of Chick-fil-A drive-thru on days we have errands in town at mealtime. :)
But I have posted more than usual this week. One night I picked up dinner at the bar in a village 5 miles away (population: 600). Twice a month they have steak night. This was our first time to try it. Jim declared his steak glorious. His potato was the size of two. My twice-baked potato was heavenly, and each chicken kabob was enough for one meal.
Tonight I picked up dinner at the fire department in a village 10 miles away (population: 300). Grilled pork chop, bun, chips, applesauce, cookie, and a drink. Drive-through only. We added dill pickles from our fridge. Price: donations.
I justified the pork chop supper by saying, "Sure, it's not our fire department, but we want it to meet budget, or else our fire department will have to cover their village and will be spread thin." Later I realized, Jim has a field in their jurisdiction, so they would be first responders to any emergency in that field.
And, just like a gift that keeps on giving, inside one of the bags holding tonight's dinner was a notice of a pulled pork sandwich meal in two weeks at a nearby church. :)
My supper club consists of hunting & gathering.
No comments:
Post a Comment