I really ate way too much fried foods last night, starting with an appetizer that was so weird I had to point it out to My Darling B: deep-fried macaroni & cheese. I couldn’t even imagine what that would look like. “Let’s get some and see,” was B’s reply, so we did. They brought us a basket of what looked like fish fingers, right down to the little bowl of white dipping sauce flecked with green seasoning on the side. When I bit into one, though, it was very clearly macaroni & cheese on the inside. They’d simply poured mac & cheese into a rectangular mold, probably frozen it so they could coat it in batter and panko, then deep-fried it. I have to admit I liked it & ate two of the damn things.
For the main dish, I ordered a Cuban sandwich, which I’m almost certain they fried on a griddle in a pool of vegetable oil. Delicious, but. It came with a side of fries, the kind that are dipped in batter before they deep-fry them. I just love those fucken things, even though I have this gnawing feeling I’m probably way past the age when I should have stopped eating them. Ate every one.
And paid for it with indigestion that lasted all night, and nightmares about trying to make sense out of dozens and dozens of spread sheets.
This Is Drivel 