Gusto

Breakfast would have been so nice to have today. I woke up hungry. Actually, I went to bed hungry. I had dreams of food.  I made dinner last night for the girls. Ravioli. It took all of my strength to not shove one in my mouth. I actually started salivating looking at them in the bowl. This cleanse has taken my mind so far away from financial worries.
My neighbor gave me rolls yesterday morning. She gives me bread constantly. Her husband owns a bread route, in New Jersey. He brings home what is left at the end of his day, which is the crack of dawn for you and I. I thought about a turkey sandwich with mayo and lettuce all afternoon. The rolls, just sitting in the brown bag on my counter, taunting me.  She handed me a bag of bagels this morning. Do you know how hard it is to find a good bagel in Pennsylvania? A good NYC style bagel? And she hands me a bag of them, fresh and crusty, with soft, glutinous innards? I curse her!!!
Corn muffins are a favorite of Olivia's. They were a favorite of mine, when I was her age. Warm from the oven, with butter. Few things in life are that simple and pleasurable. My mother used to cook us chicken liver omelets when I was a kid. (Gasp!) Yet I loved those too. And oatmeal with happy faces made of raisins, and hair of brown sugar. Oh how I loved those hard nuggets of brown sugar. 
Tonight I will make another crowd pleaser. Meat loaf. I can't even believe at times that, not only have I perfected the loaf, but it is one of my most requested dinners. I hated it as a kid. Looking back, my mother did not make a good meat loaf. It was just a lump of flavorless meat. She had no passion. No gusto! Her comfort food gave no comfort. She never took a risk, and never tried to make it the best meat loaf she possibly could. Some days, that is my biggest accomplishment. Some days, that makes me sad. Some days, I'll take it. 
When I lived in NYC, I used to order lunch some days, from Gardenia Diner, on Madison Avenue. The guys there loved me, and my boss, Shannon. If we had no cash, they just put it on a tab. I loved saying that. "Put it on my tab, Stefanos!". It made me feel important. 
We used to order the turkey meat loaf from there. It was something we got in the winter. It was totally contrived.. Like people going apple picking in the Fall. It's something we all feel compelled to do. The inner gatherer in us preparing for the winter. We always had mashed potatoes with tons of gravy along with our turkey loafs. In a way, I think we thought we were trying to be ironic. Sitting in gold leafed Charivari chairs, in our three hundred dollar Gucci loafers, and cashmere sweaters, chomping on meatloaf. We were taking being stuck up to the umpteenth degree. Like blue bloods swilling Pabst Blue Ribbon, and slummin' it. Tomfoolery. 
But that turkey meat loaf from Gardenia diner. Magic! Pure delicious wonderment. I could have drunk the gravy out of a to go coffee cup. Delightful. And the mashed potatoes. They were the real deal. Lumps and all. When I first made a meatloaf, a few years back, for my kids, it went over well. Very well. I have had a few bombs here and there. I got a little experimental a few times, and was not well received. Forget putting spinach in the loaf. It is met with frowns. I think it is yummy, and love an opportunity to slide in an extra veggie when I can, into to the girls. They do not like green specks in the loaf. Not even a little. Don't mess with the loaf.
I never thought that I would know how to make a meatloaf, yet alone, have a secret recipe.
 More surprises that have revealed themselves to me, as I have taken on this role of mother and wife. 
Sweet, wonderful, surprises.  
Today, I'll take it.