Breadboard French Dip…
I finally got a chance to break away from the Rogue Valley. The stress. The traffic. The extreme weather. Haha. But really, it is nice to have a change of scenery from time to time. I was psyched. Destination: Big Sur, Andrew Molera State Park. Gorgeous, dramatic coast line. Cute otters. I was halfway into day two, watching the waves break on the beach, lost in the rhythmic pounding of the waves, watching the foam creeping up the beach and then it hit me. Gravy. Country gravy. I had been living on granola and yogurt and apples and ham sandwiches for a couple of days. I had been sustained, but I wasn’t “living”. I started to think about country gravy with big hunks of sausage and bacon. Then, I started to think about the Bagel Breakfast Sandwich at the Breadboard with honey-cured ham and Swiss cheese. And then I started to crave real Sourdough Pancakes… Then I started to crave lunch – the Breadboard French Dip with grilled mushrooms onions… I started to panic. I was a good 9 or 12 hours from Ashland. I was stranded. Alone. Hungry. Afraid. Devoid of hope. Ok, ok. I knew I wasn’t in a “physically” life-threatening situation, but panic is relative. Reason is delicate and fleeting. Life can be cheap and one person’s Mount Everest is another’s de riguer, coup de gras, creme de la creme, fois de grois, uh, I don’t know…now I was apparently in some kind of bad French hallucination- my head was swimming, the waves pounded the beach and the otters played. Breadboard. I needed an omelette. Au Revior, mon petite chou chou…