Saturday Lunch

Saturday lunch is the quirkiest meal that I have during the week if I am not golfing.  It has been for years.  Why?  Because I never know quite what to have.  I usually end up grazing in the refrigerator and pantry and slapping together some odd bodkin agglomeration of whatever I can find.  Frequently PB & J on crackers.   If I find nothing if interest, I may dash out to the local food mart and snag a few pieces of spanikopita.  Regardless of what I have, Saturday lunch has rarely been satisfying.  A few years ago, however, all that changed.  A fork in the road. . . . . 

There is an old adage that if you give a monkey a typewriter and enough time (and paper), he will eventually tap out a serviceable poem or intelligent article (see  Well after decades of trial and error, this chimp came up with a winner of a Saturday lunch. 

I sliced a baguette thinly.  Then spread a layer of Champagne (or honey) mustard, added some smoked salmon, a wedge of fresh avocado and some crumbly chive goat cheese.  I nuked it for about 30 seconds and – voila!   It was a Saturday lunch destined for the time capsule.  I made extra and served it to Donna and she immediately asked for the recipe.  That was a true endorsement of my creation. 

From then on, I have been scrupulous about keeping these treasured ingredients close at hand.  And I can’t wait for Saturday lunch.  Whether or not I’m golfing. . . .  

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