I think I'll make it a monthly tradition.

I've decided to stop fighting the inevitable and make the occasional post about food. I can't stop thinking about it, so why not share my misery?

For example, on Monday, I had a craving for raisin bran (and I dislike raisins (well, maybe not these Raisins) - but it might be due to the time of year, since my annual consumption of raisins was always after some do-gooder would slip them into my bag at Halloween). Yesterday, I wanted Entenmann's raspberry danish. This morning, I thought I smelled bacon or ham at the indoor track, and that made me think of sausage, and that made me think of scrapple (I prefer the term "everything but the oink" over "mush"; it sounds more appetizing), and all that thinking about breakfast meats made me hungry. (Interestingly, these three cravings all occurred while I was walking laps.)

Yesterday afternoon, I went for my haircut. Afterward, I ate at Sugar's Ribs, conveniently located on the drive home. When you come visit me, we'll have to eat there. First off, there's a great view. Second, out of all the barbecue places in The Noog, I have yet to find another that serves barbecued lamb. Third, I need someone to help me with the roasted jalapenos (three in a serving). I keep doing this to myself: forgetting that fresh jalapenos are a lot hotter than the canned ones. After the first bite, I realized that I could no longer taste the barbecue sauce (they have six from which to choose, including "Hot Lips" and "Sweet and Goopy"), nor even the lamb. After about five minutes, I was wondering if I was about to have my first-ever experience with indigestion or if I had merely ingested too much carbonation from my Dr. Pepper. (It turned out to be the latter, thankfully, although I think I still felt the peppers exiting my stomach and entering my upper small intestine as I lay down for bed. If you hear a scream, you'll know I could feel them leaving my body, too.) I could still taste the salt on my potato chips, though, and the jalapenos had pretzel salt on them, and that made them absolutely nummy - until the flavor (an unofficial slogan for New Mexico is "where pain is a flavor") kicked in.