King Cake Baby: Oh, my!

January 20, 2021

I’ve been feeling a bit cooped up here at Shepherd State Park. We had a couple long days of dreary cold rain and I wasn’t accomplishing anything, so I went to the Lowe’s near here and wandered around for something to do, it’s a big store so you can walk about half a mile. Then I went to the Walmart and did the same thing. Just those last two sentences tell you something’s off, let’s hope it’s just the weather. I feel like I’m in one of those picture puzzles in a newspaper: What is wrong with this picture? Name 10 things. I am not going to list them and instead am going to get a start on my “Camping in an RV cookbook.”

Boil water, open package of Top Ramen. On other travels I made a lot of quesadillas and put whatever I had into the tortilla: cauliflower, cheese, tuna, parsley, cabbage. This year the regular seems to be Top Ramen to which I add cauliflower, parsley, cabbage, frozen peas, forget the cheese and tuna. Have the cheese and an apple for lunch. If you have electricity get a toaster, have toast and butter for breakfast, I suggest raisin toast. Simple. Tea and a piece of chocolate in mid-afternoon. Jazz and a drink when the sun goes over the yardarm; meanwhile, boil water. You can always stir up an egg and add it to the Top Ramen. Of course it’s boring. All is not lost, an orange and an avocado mixed together will perk you right up, though.

I visit with friends a couple of times a week and they feed me dinner, that’s never boring, it’s delicious. He’s the one who likes to cook, “It’s my hobby,” he says. By the time he is finished fixing the meal, there are splatters everywhere, his back is out and his apron looks like it came from a slaughterhouse. I volunteer to clean up, but I had to purchase some dishcloths at Walgreen’s, I’m not that fond of sponges. Part way through a delicious meal of shrimp gumbo, coq au vin, or yams with ribs and collard greens, he will start talking about what they are going to have for breakfast and lunch the next day and go off on a cheery tangent of what’s on the menu for the rest of the week. When my stomach is full the last thing I want to think about is the next meal.

I never think about food until I realize my hands are shaking and my head feels dizzy. What’s wrong? I think. Oh, it’s 2:00 o’clock and I forgot about lunch and maybe even breakfast. Then I have to wolf down a peanut butter sandwich, not a pretty sight.

And speaking of peanut butter, do any of you like peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches? Have you ever had one? I ate them when I was a kid, coming in from climbing a tree or racing around on my bike, grubby, scrawny, scratched and shaky. I could whip one of those sandwiches together so fast and get it down before my mother, coming in to the kitchen could say, “Lunch will be ready soon, honey.” And by then I’d have had a glass of nice cold milk to keep from stopping up my esophagus. It wasn’t until I read the Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath that I realized other people liked them as well, of all people, Sylvia, the poet. I’m not sure the doctor would recommend this for the low blood sugar shakes, but it works for me, all in moderation of course.

This year because of the pandemic, there are no Mardi Gras parades and people have made do with purple, green and gold decorations on their houses while indoors they eat King Cake which is covered in purple, green and gold sugary frosting and comes in a box that is also purple, green and gold and has a little cellophane window so you can peek in and choose the one with the gooey-est frosting, You know what color it is; preferably the one with the same color little balls sprinkled on top. You can hope you don’t choke on the little naked plastic baby baked inside or break a tooth on the little balls. “Oh, it’s the

best,” the neighbors say offering me a second piece. “We eat it all month long.” My teeth ache just thinking about a second slice. If I had a choice between alligator stew made with a dark brown oven baked roux, I know what I’d do, choose the stew. But guess what? I got the naked plastic baby. Now I think it’s my turn to bring the next cake.

At Rouse’s grocery store there are three giant bins of fresh cabbages, and next to those there is a veritable barricade of packaged King Cakes. Stacked almost shoulder high and gleaming in their colorful boxes, the little plastic babies inside call out, “Choose me, choose me!” And one by one the customers ogle over the boxes, “Which one looks best? How many can we eat this week?” “Sweet, sweet, sweet,” tweets the canary in the health care coal mine.

I’m going to go now and listen to the Neville Brothers, and rock out to their bestselling song, you know what it is: King Cake Baby, King Cake Baby, King Cake Baby, King Cake Baby…...

With thanks to one happy man with a sweet tooth, John Dugaw, who says the Mississippi diet is essentially, fat, sugar, salt and alcohol. Who needs anything more?