Years ago, one of my sister’s friends from Spain came to the states for a visit. After a day of eavesdropping on conversations at the Jersey shore to improve her English, she made a startling discovery. All Americans talk about is what they ate for their last meal, what they are presently eating, and what they plan on eating for their next meal.
Man, I had the best ham sandwich for lunch today. It had a ton of mustard and pickles. Man, that was good.
I could kill for a chocolate ice-cream cone right now. Wouldn’t you? Where’s that ice-cream truck?
We should make a nice pasta salad for dinner today. A little cheese. A little onion. It’ll be great.
Since we’re all red-blooded Americans, let’s talk food. What are you eating for lunch today?
Apt. 11d 
A prototypical young neurotic female professional lunch: reduced-fat hummus sandwich on whole wheat bread, with tomato, cucumber, and mixed greens. Since, like the young, neurotic, broke female professional I am, I made it myself at my desk, it was astonishingly messy.
If you really want to indulge the American obsession with everything that goes into our mouths, try the new government food tracker, which allows you to input everything you eat and get a nice analysis of calories, nutritional content, and how well it goes with the new food pyramid. It still has a few kinks–thanks to the dairy lobby it urges you to consume a truly ridiculous amount of milk products, and it yells at you if you eat too little fat, but it does provide a certain satisfaction to the dietary overachiever.
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Plain brown and wild rice, which I’ll try to dress up with at least salt and pepper, and maybe a pat of butter, from the staff kitchen. Hazardous.
Dried apticots and a couple squares of dark chocolate. Might treat myself to something from the coffee shop next to the bank after I cash my paycheck.
I tried that government food tracker, but it drove me nuts. Hasn’t the USDA heard of usability testing? Yeesh.
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I’m having leftover chicken pasta salad with roasted red peppers, black olives and shaved parmesan cheese, dressed with pesto and lemon juice.
I ever talked about food or even thought that much about food until I met my husband, who is an immigrant from Bulgaria. His family is absolutely food obsessed and it’s my experience that my immigrant friends tend to be way more into conversations about food than my born in the US friends.
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Well, our group at work went out for a celebratory lunch today at a swanky Manhattan restaurant, so I pigged out on steak (of the kosher variety!). But more importantly, among the diners at the table behind us was none other than Walter Cronkite. Really.
I was tempted to ask him how the blog thing is going (or whether he’s learned how to turn on a computer yet), but decided against it for some reason.
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Most of the time I bring leftovers from home, but today we’re supposed to get a group lunch at work, but I’ve no idea what it’ll be. And yesterday I had lunch with the missus at the Hobees restaurant near home (I had class that night and I’d left my backpack at home). The day before that, I think, was leftover curry.
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It’s 4 p.m. and I’m having somthing lunchlike — but not much, just enough to go to the gym. Trader Joe’s Mediterranean plate. Hummus, Pita, falafel, tabouleh, with a little tahini. Damn, I was hoping for tzatziki. Will probably finish it for dinner. This college is going to love the food bills I send them.
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I had a plain tortilla, and 48 ounces of coffee. Nothing like being an unemployed undergraduate…
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Lunch turned out to be catered by Armadillo Willy’s (a ribs place). I’m a vegetarian, so I stuck to the salad and pastas (ravioli and tortellini or something). Plus cake!
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Lunch? Late breakfast: peanut butter on toast, coffee. Attack stack of exams. Grill some bratwurst on a hard roll as an evening reward for completing stack of exams. The Sprecher has to wait until the grade sheets are filled in and turned in.
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Thanks to all you healthy people, I was guilted into eating a real meal for lunch on Friday. Left over London Broil and a salad. I usually eat something crappy like three Chipsahoy and a bottle of Snapple, because I would rather play on the computer than fix myself a meal. I’m often too lazy to eat.
I’m going to die young. I’m going to die young like Elvis.
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A sesame bagel smeared with avocado and topped with turkey pastrami. Lemon iced tea. Mmmmm.. carbs.
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