Today for lunch, I elected to play it old school with a PB&J and a good old fashioned Coca-Cola. That’s right. No jamón, no tortilla española, paella, or other local dish. Actually, tonight I have friends in town and will have to do the whole tapas thing.
This morning I woke up and it was finally cooler outside. I opened the window and there was a nice breeze. My refrigerator and cupboards were empty, save for some jelly and a faithful jar of Peter Pan Extra Crunchy that I only crack open for special occasions. And what is a better occasion than a quiet Saturday midday with a fresh breeze?
When I was a kid we were only allowed to drink Coke almost exclusively when we were on vacation with my maternal grandmother. Now that I am more autonomous than at eight years old, I ran down to the corner convinience store and got me a bottle of Coke and a loaf of sliced bread. I came back home and prepared myself two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to be occampanied by one Coca-Cola.
A Coke, a PB&J, and some fresh air, and that, my friends, tastes like a childhood vacation. The only things missing were drinking the Coke out of an eight ounce glass bottte and a road trip to New Jersey.
Grave Error 