So the other week marked the two year anniversary of my return to the States. We had a surprisingly quick move back with what seems like less than 30 days to get our shit together and get the hell out of dodge. The week of the move was going to be absolutely insane. Or at least it should have been for me except that I got sick enough to warrant a hospital stay that released me with less than 24 hours to get on my plane home.
While in the hospital I managed to acquire a notepad which which I staved off boredom by writing up notes and thoughts during my stay. Long time readers, have probably already seen 10 Things I learned... which I posted during my recovery back at a hotel that I was calling home. In truth, I never posted further on the matter because I was just too sick to sit at the computer and actually decipher my own handwriting. Before taking on the task of writing down. Beyond that, I can't tell you how many times I've misplaced this damn thing – yes, it's right here on my desk right now...which is oddly clean for once.
Anyhow, as my anniversary approached once again, I managed to find it and look over my old scribblings. I thought in honour of two years back where I belong, I could share one of the so called “lost texts” and then, of course, I got super busy, the world ended...whatever excuse makes you happy. I'm here, ready to share!
You all know what I learned while staying there. I also had this sort of letter to all my friends in family that I wrote all weepishly while missing them and just not feeling well. I think I'll spare you the details of that one. There's also the documentation of all the bruises I got ...so..no, eww, nobody wants to read that. Not even me. What I am going to share is about.....yes, include an extended drum-roll please...
Hospital Food!!
I've finally gotten it typed up with minimal deviation from my original writings which, I came to discover, were scattered ALL through this damn notebook rather pell mell. That being said, please forgive if the writing seems a bit disjointed – I was pretty sick at the time. Oh, and since typing it? I feel like it's all kinds of long so I'm going to split it in two and should post the second part either later today or tomorrow...provided I survive work.
This is not a Foodie's Idea of a Dream Come True
But it could be their hell. Ok, so I'll admit it, I'm not a foodie. At least I don't think I am. Hell, I'm not even sure what that means. However, I do appreciate local custom and locally grown food without being so damn picky that I'll turn my nose up at things that aren't. I love caviar AND a fresh fishy mac (actually, an overnight one will do too but that's for another day) ***Note: Two years later it's taken me quite a while to figure out what the hell I was saying here. It just dawned on me that McD's in Germany calls the Filet o'Fish a Fish Mac...and me, being well....me....I called it a Fishy Mac...go figure... I don't discriminate against wine because of price though I'm much more selective about beer. And let me tell you, I don't drink it much.
Does that make me a foodie?
Fudge if I know!
Mmm.....fudginess....damn, should have bought that Bounty that looked oh so tempty
So now that I've been allowed to eat, I'm kinda bewildered. I'm SICK! Why oh why do the cooks here want to make me sicker??
Brekkie was innocent enough, if not a bit spartan. Two slices of bread, butter, jam and quark. Herb tea and fruit joghurt. oh...and a random, empty glass. I've discovered that I don't like quark. Quarkini is one thing cause there's all that lovely sugar, zitrone and yeasty dough. On its own? Blech...maybe with salt and pepper which is apparently frowned upon.
Lunch is apparently our only hot meal. Today's offering was...cream of barf soup. Ok, I think it was spargle...maybe... I asked my roomie since I figured she'd actually ordered this crap (at the time I'd not had a visit with the nutritionist) and she cast a dubious look and questioningly responded with, “Milk...I think.”
On the hot plate we had tricolour pasta, broccoli and....warmed over dog food? The one that comes to find is that kind you could mix with water to make “gravy”. Tentative tastes and I've found I was eating broccoli and chicken that was cooked to death. The pasta was perfect though, so go figure.
Dessert was a total mystery. Roomie took the first, brave bite and thoughtfully declared it, “caramel”. I went the sniffing route and kinda agreed, adding the “cake mix” (which yes, they have that here). Taste for me, initially, was citrusy but I couldn't put my finger on just what...then it hit me. Peach. Effing peach pud. I think by then I was just too squicked out to bother...that and my appetite isn't all that anyhow.
Dinner...as mentioned before, lunch is our hot meal. Dinner's really sad if you ask me. Sliced bread (nice bread, mind you), slices of mystery cold cut (seriously, it's multi-shades of pink) and butter. Oh, and parsley. I also got a bowl of what appears to farina...kinda odd but homey tasting. I've set it aside to try with the girls when they come to visit.
The farina, it turned out, was great fun to try and feed the girls. I'm sure the Elfling recalls sharing a slice of choco cake with me when the Diva was born so her dismay at this was understandable. I think she took a quick taste – to be polite. The Diva dove in with giggles on how weird it was (and quite frankly, at dinner, I would have too if not for having been in the company of another adult) before quickly abandoning it.
