Thursday, March 03, 2005

Mmmmm. Sacre-licious.

There's been a lot of talk of heresy bandied about the past few weeks (Gallic shrug). I myself have only once been caught in such a statement.

I once said that The Varsity didn't taste good cold.

I was wrong.

Ah, The Varsity. Next to wine, is there any other delicacy that is spoken of using the name of the place of its origin? I had The Rome last night? The Paris? The Maine? No.

But, "Hey, let's get The Varsity tonight!" and, "Yes, I'd like another glass of the Beaujolais, please" are some of the finest phrases ever spoken by mankind.

As mentioned previously, there is no food in my house. My normal lunch fare consists of leftovers (all gone) or hot dogs (also all gone). There are no good chips, no hamburger meat or chicken nuggets. Alas, there were no CheezIts.

In this case, I normally would make quesadillas (tortilla, handful of cheese, foldover, put in paper towel in the microwave for 45 seconds, remove paper towel, put in toaster oven on Medium. Perfect.) But we've had quesadillas for dinner twice this week in an attempt to rectify a tortilla over-purchase from a few weeks ago. No, I did not get excited at the grocery store, I made a mistake and put it on the list two weeks in a row.

So today I was standing downstairs bemoaning the fact that a) there was no food in the house, and 2) my wife had our car.

Yes, we are a one-car household. I work at home and have absolutely zero interests outside of said home that do not also include the rest of the family, so we only need one car. And today, my wife took the Middles to see a play at the Fox.

If you grew up in Atlanta, you know where this is going.

So, if you've got a gaggle of kids who've just finished watching a play at the Fox, looking at the "stars" in the ceiling and listening to the organ man, where do you go for lunch? Simple, you say, you go two blocks away to The Varsity. Curse you star-watching, organ-listening Varsity eaters.

So while I was standing in the kitchen trying to figure out whether to eat frozen pumpkin puree or a pop-tart for lunch, my lovely wife calls to gloat that she's going to eat at The Varsity.


After I calmed down, she asked if she could bring anything. Through my whimpering, I managed to say, "Yes, please do."

When she asked what I wanted, I could feel joy returning. The sun peeked from behind a dark cloud; a bird called out. I said, "Chili-only dog, chili-only steak, and some fries, please."

To the everlasting credit of my beautiful bride, she did indeed deliver the holy items (plus a small amount of chili powder). The food was not hot, but it was just fine by me.

Even cold, The Varsity is still the best in town. I am ready to do my penance now.


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