vittles - 1
While on a recent excursion in a certain area of Webster's word land, I walked - at least mentally - right up on the word victual. It means food usable by man or supplies of food. When this unit of communication or it's country cousin, vittle, is used, it's most often in the plural form. The reason for this would seem to be that one victual or vittle is usually not eaten alone, but in combination with another.
One example of this would be the nearly venerable family favorite of macaroni and cheese - this as opposed to the cheesy acrimony more or less endured by some households.
Both of these aforementioned products are cheap and easy to make and difficult to get rid of. The latter because it settles in the soul, wrapping it's acid tentacles around, and demeaning one's self worth. The former because if too much is consumed, it settles around one's middle and ignores even very valiant efforts to melt it away.
Over my lifetime, I have discovered many combinations of vittles, some even going beyond my consumption desires - this being difficult, since I am mostly omnivorous. Some combos were a passing fancy or on the temporary list, while others are staples on my mental menu at this present time.
My normal morning fare of three kinds of cereal layered on top of a mooshed banana in a large bowl, moistened by fruit juice - because of milk allergies - seems to be mostly unique to me. A few have told of using OJ on cereal, but this was only in an emergency - when the milk ran out - and not on a regular basis.
A past favorite of mine was chicken noodle soup - a combination in itself - with a dollop - between a large lump and a gob - of peanut butter - smooth or crunchy - and a couple of slices of cheese melted into it as well. This combo was the subject of at least mock horror on the minds and lips of both daughters during their formative years, but I don't think it left them with emotional scars . . . or did it?
My Dad was a great creator of combination soups. There was usually some sort of meat as a base - though I don't remember any possum - then any and all veggies that happened to be available, including the leftovers of the week. The soup events usually happened on Saturday because my Mom worked that day in a small bakery nearby.
When the time and soup was right, we all gathered around the table and consumed his handiwork with gusto. It was enjoyable, but usually on the hot pepper side - to the point of sweat on the forehead and the clearing of sinuses.
To be contd - - ec
One example of this would be the nearly venerable family favorite of macaroni and cheese - this as opposed to the cheesy acrimony more or less endured by some households.
Both of these aforementioned products are cheap and easy to make and difficult to get rid of. The latter because it settles in the soul, wrapping it's acid tentacles around, and demeaning one's self worth. The former because if too much is consumed, it settles around one's middle and ignores even very valiant efforts to melt it away.
Over my lifetime, I have discovered many combinations of vittles, some even going beyond my consumption desires - this being difficult, since I am mostly omnivorous. Some combos were a passing fancy or on the temporary list, while others are staples on my mental menu at this present time.
My normal morning fare of three kinds of cereal layered on top of a mooshed banana in a large bowl, moistened by fruit juice - because of milk allergies - seems to be mostly unique to me. A few have told of using OJ on cereal, but this was only in an emergency - when the milk ran out - and not on a regular basis.
A past favorite of mine was chicken noodle soup - a combination in itself - with a dollop - between a large lump and a gob - of peanut butter - smooth or crunchy - and a couple of slices of cheese melted into it as well. This combo was the subject of at least mock horror on the minds and lips of both daughters during their formative years, but I don't think it left them with emotional scars . . . or did it?
My Dad was a great creator of combination soups. There was usually some sort of meat as a base - though I don't remember any possum - then any and all veggies that happened to be available, including the leftovers of the week. The soup events usually happened on Saturday because my Mom worked that day in a small bakery nearby.
When the time and soup was right, we all gathered around the table and consumed his handiwork with gusto. It was enjoyable, but usually on the hot pepper side - to the point of sweat on the forehead and the clearing of sinuses.
To be contd - - ec
posted by mreddie | 9:27 AM
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