You are what you eat

I went to a wedding shower for Janice yesterday with some of my favorite gals on the planet. The theme was "kitchen" (I gave Janice my favorite chopper from Pampered Chef - an amazing little tool that doubles as a stress-reliever) and the game was all about food. Oh, and the spread in the kitchen was simply to die for. Let's just say we had food on the brain.

Somewhere between opening gifts and guessing whether Nick said Janice preferred chocolate or vanilla, we got to talking about our secret food cravings. "What do you eat when your husband isn't home?" someone asked, and we all took it from there.

A few admitted their love of bologna - a desire I have never shared, even when mom would cut it into sixths and put ketchup on it and try to pawn it off as "pizza". Others talked about melting chocolate chips on Ritz crackers or eating peanut butter straight from the jar. One makes homemade dill dip and just has that with veggies for dinner. Another has perfected s'mores in the microwave.

I mentioned my weakness for those 75-cent Banquet chicken pot pies - and of course I always carve an "E" in the top like mom used to, even though it's not like I have to keep more than one pie straight since no one on this earth will eat them with me.

While all random, we were collectively taken aback by this: a "white trash sandwich" (her words, not mine), which consists of Wonder bread, grape jelly and a slice of cheddar cheese. This friend of mine has been eating them since she was 8, and apparently still sneaks a few in here and there when her husband is working late.

After that, my pot pies sounded perfectly normal.