Favorite Food By Michael A. Black

 

Some writers are very adept at putting their favorite foods into their work. Robert B. Parker used to have Spenser cooking a fine meal for his lady love, Susan, all the time. Parker capitalized on this by putting out a Spenser Cook Book, if I remember correctly. For a guy like me, whose idea of eating out is a quick stop at Portillo’s (or In and Out if I’m in Vegas or California), having my characters cook a gourmet meal is about as likely as having them spout off some Latin phrases. I mean, I can cook when I have to, but Chef Boyer Day doesn’t need to feel threatened. I have no problem writing a knock-down, drag-out fight, or a good old fashioned shootout, but describing someone cooking a meal would be way beyond my powers and abilities. Plus, I would find it kind of boring. I used to skip the parts of those Spenser novels detailing his culinary talents.

Now I do have a funny food story that I can relate so this one won’t be a total loss. It dates back to my army days during basic training at good old Fort Polk, Louisiana. As soon as we arrived at the reception station we were told we’d be fed and given a chance to get some sleep. It was late at night when I found myself standing in a line outside the mess hall at parade rest waiting for the sergeant to admit the next group of GIs. We had to call out if we wanted “hard eggs” in advance. There was no choice of over-easy, scrambled, or fried. And you took what you got. But the Army lived up to its pledge of “three hots and a cot.”

A few days later I got my first assignment to KP duty, or “Kitchen Police.” It started at 0400 hours, or four AM. We trudged down to the mess hall in the darkness and reported to the mess sergeant. Little did I know that we wouldn’t be released until 1900 hours that night and we’d have to scrub the entire kitchen area down with soapy water and brooms after every meal. The sarge was a less than jovial sort, and told us that we were having turkey for dinner. After directing us to these large freezers he stooped down and opened one of the drawers. I saw a pair of turkeys sitting on a pan and was amazed at how brown they already looked. The mess sergeant emitted a growling sound, and said, “Get out of here.” As if on cue, the brown turkeys turned white as a hoard of cockroaches fled with incredible speed. The mess sergeant started pulling the turkeys out of the freezer and told me to grab the ones in the next drawer. I opened it and saw all the cockroaches that had fled from the first set of drawers were now residing on the turkeys in this one. The critters repeated their disappearing act, and I didn’t even have to yell. I was amazed at their speed and unity of movement, but after all, this was an army base.

I turned to the mess sergeant and asked if there were other turkeys we should use.

“We’ll start with these,” he said.

“You mean we’re going to use these?” I asked. “But what about all those cockroaches that were on them?”

He grinned. “What the troops don’t know won’t hurt ’em.”

I debated asking about the four of us on KP, who knew better, but I figured it was a good time to keep my mouth shut. He continued with my edification.

“Besides, trainee, you’ll soon find out that the cockroach is a completely edible insect. You don’t even have to cook ’em.” He set one of the turkeys on the counter. “You’d best remember that when you go on bivouac for your POW training.”

A few weeks later I found out what he was talking about, but I managed to refrain from eating any cockroaches. Needless to say, I lost about thirty pounds over the course of those nine weeks.

Comments

[Jean Rabe]

Ewwwwwwwwwww

[Ann]

Oh ugh! Well, I guess in basic training, folks work so hard that any food probably looks good! ;-)

[Kathy Daniels]

I guess that's one way to lose weight Mike.

[camille minichino]

I knew there was a reason I forgot to check in this week! A grim reminder of east coast apartment days when we didn't dare open the kitchen cabinets without making some noise first!