I don’t know how many of you have ever had Spoon Bread, but I had an incident.
I was, like many people during the past two weeks, sick as a dog. Allergies, a cold? Both, really.
So, slogging forward, as was necessary, because September is a busy month, I kept it all going by doing the Judy Garland thing: Uppers (Sudafed) to get through the day and Downers (Night Time Sinus Drowsy Stuff) to sleep. The effect was tri-fold.
One, my head was basically clear. Two, I was artificially up and down. And three, I hardly ate. So I was ravenous.
Lucky for us, we have many friends who have all these enjoyable weekend houses and we get invited and we show up with a few bags of things and we have a good time. On our most recent trip to the beach on
Fire Island with K&J and their kids, we were treated
to amazing cooking. And sandwiches. And sweets. Everything you love. And like a
truck driver who hasn’t eaten in a week, taking the long haul from Phonenix to Bangor, I piled it in ferociously.
This would have been okay (my friends are not judgmental) except for the last night when the Spoon Bread came out. Now, I have never had spoon bread that I can remember. But it’s basically a casserole made from flour and such. And it’s delicious. I don’t know if it has cheese in it…but it does have something that sticks when it’s hot. Anyway, in my filthy attempt at feeding my starving Sudafedded self, I went at that Spoon Bread with both spoons, both hands, and a double delight in what looked like the fluffiest, tastiest fun floury goop and deposited it right into the back of my maw.
That was when I burned my entire soft palate and almost lost my uvula. It has taken days to recover.
My brother lost his uvula once. It never came back.
We continue on earth because we must.