As if fate needed to remind me that there is balance in life, I was lucky enough to spend a week in sunny Florida … followed by a week with a cold once I was back home. This added up to two weeks without much time in the kitchen.
While in Florida, we rented a vacation home, complete with a hot tub, pool, and, of course, a large kitchen. Funny how your favorite room in the house is no longer where you want to spend your time once you can see a hot tub out the window, though. So we instead relied on easy meals and my favorite pizza place in Orlando, Giordano’s, for Chicago-style stuffed pizzas with spinach, broccoli, garlic and olives. Yum. Let’s go back right now.
The week following paradise was spent in the middle of a snowstorm back in Minneapolis, fighting off colds. When I’m ill, I immediately want lots of fresh fruit. And I drink an unreasonable amount of mint tea. After that, though, all signs of my normal eating habits are dead to me, as I can barely muster the energy to make it to the grocery store, much less cook.
I’m not proud of my comfort-food habits. And when you’re not proud of something you do, it’s important to come up with a cute name to make yourself feel better about it. So I call my comfort food Bachelor Chow. It started as a joke when my husband was out of town for work. Then it became delicious. Here’s how you can make your own:
- Locate pride. Shoot it in the face. You can’t have pride tonight. You need comfort food.
- Bake one Totino’s pizza. (On a pizza stone, preferably. And in the oven, not the microwave. You’re ill, not an idiot.)
- Prepare one package of Kraft Deluxe Macaroni and Cheese. (If you get the regular kind with the powder, so help me, you’re never getting better.)
- Eat both things. Together. I don’t care how you do it — pile the macaroni on top of the pizza, scoop some on with each bite, make a burrito — but you need the two things together. Otherwise you’re just eating pizza with macaroni and cheese on the side, and that’s disgusting. You disgust me.
And that’s how I get better. That’s my secret recipe. As in, I don’t tell anyone this. I’ll deny it later. I’m ashamed already. Really, it was the fruit and tea that healed me. Look, I told you in the beginning that I was both gourmet and tacky. This is just between you and me.
There. I shared mine. What’s your comfort-food confession? Leave a comment. Your silence will only lead me to eat more Bachelor Chow.