Ms. Monk

I used to think that I was a pretty picky eater. Then I went to college and met folks who were much more picky -- well, at least in my opinion. The most memorable was one of my roommates from junior year. Let's call her Ms. Monk.

Why, you ask? Well, Ms. Monk had issues with food touching. Salads should consist of nothing but veggies. The idea of putting anything other than a veggie in a salad was utterly repulsive to her. Chow mein or fried rice? The ultimate in indignities because not only is the stuff touching but it's all mixed up thus making it hard to separate. She was definitely a creature of habit.

But she was also one of the coolest roommates I had in college. And there was one of her food habits that I acquired -- French fries with a little salt and lots of black pepper with mustard for dipping.

It's cold and wet here once more. So easy to forget that we're in the middle of a drought. Dreary weather equals comfort food for me. So I battered up the cod fillet in a beer batter and cooked up some fries. Then it was time for the condiments. I almost went tartar sauce and ketchup because those are my faves with fish. But then I remembered my former roommate and went with the mustard instead of the ketchup.

Oh, and I'm feeling much better. And know that there will be more food in the coming week. Sorry about the lack of quiz yesterday.