Okay, so I just saw the doctor, who wants me to eat properly, exercise more and be mindful of getting certain tests done to insure continued good health. I liked him - he was practical, personable and obviously a very good physician.
So my answer is to go out for a fried chicken dinner tonight. Bad Bad Bad, but I'm doing it because southern fried chicken just can't be obtained anywhere except in the south (and a good friend of mine's house in Wausau, Wisconsin). I think my friend must have been a slave cook in a past life, because her chicken is comparable to the chicken here. She's not afraid of hard work either, which just proves my point that we all live many times before we get "it", whatever "it" is. I'm sure I was a princess in a past life because I'm very comfortable with the royal treatment. Obviously, I learned nothing valuable from that life.
I digress. Fried chicken in the south. Maybe I'll add coleslaw and red beans & rice, just to make it a little healthier. All I know is that I smell chicken frying all over this town, and it sets my tongue to dripping. It's Pavlovian. My husband was going to come home tonight and make a tofu, noodle, vegetable dish, which I requested; but instead, I got a whiff on my way home of chicken frying, and just like that, our dinner plans have changed.
Now, you can eat shrimp cocktail. You can eat lobster cold. You can eat sushi, all relatively good for you. But the only way to eat a chicken is to coat it and drop it in boiling grease. I am not sure who figured out how to do this first (probably my friend in Wausau when she was a slave cook) but I'm glad it was figured out.