Debby Does…

I realize that I have not written here since January 18th when I shared my tribute to our late, great doggo, Matilda. I miss her terribly and I’ve just been in a bit of a funk when it comes to writing. I’m cooking, I’m singing, I’m teaching, I’m directing, but I am not writing much. The state of the world is definitely not helping.

Still, I have had some thoughts.

Whether you can believe this or not, I am, on occasion, addicted to reels. In particular, I, like many others, love to watch people eat in their cars. I don’t know why, but it fascinates me. Perhaps it’s because I never do that or because I rarely eat that kind of food, but I cannot stop watching.

Sometimes, reels pop up that you “might” be interested in and there was one recently that got me thinking about lunch. For background, it’s a lady with 10 (previously 11—not sure what happened there) kids, who packs their lunches and shares the videos.

You should know that these kids eat more processed food than even RFK, Jr has imagined and the quantity of items is ridiculous. Are the children going to school or doomsday prepping for the rapture?

Anyway, I started thinking about the school lunch packing process and then went down a vintage lunchbox rabbit hole coming out on the other side, pondering field trip fare.

I like order, so I’m going to number my thoughts.

1. I packed my lunch every day. The options were limited: PB&J, American cheese on white bread, the occasional hotdog kept warm in my thermos, Cuppa Soup in the thermos, and a solitary snack item—either a small bag of Lays chips or those skinny pretzel sticks in a box. Side note, it was a requirement to tip that box on its end after finishing the pretzels and eat all the salt left behind. Every once in a while, I bought a soft pretzel or an ice cream treat. I have absolutely no recollection of what I drank, but I’m guessing Hi-C or Capri Sun (later) or nothing because I refused to pee at school after a particularly embarrassing crotch snap bodysuit incident in my early years.
2. I was fascinated by school bought lunch, but generally too picky to eat it. I do recall a day that our buses didn’t come at the end of school, so they fed us again. I walked to the counter with great trepidation, as it was a new frontier for me. A grandmotherly lunch lady plopped a big ol’ meatball sub on my tray, accompanied by a syrupy collection of peaches that had definitely come out of a giant can. I walked to the table and considered my options. It would be rude not to eat what they provided for us. My mother would not approve of me throwing it away. There was just a huge obstacle to eating it. If you know me, you know my thoughts on tomatoes and tomato sauce, not to mention ground beef. I struggled, but on that day, ate as much as I could tolerate, spitting a bit of it into my many napkins and then took a, mostly, empty tray back up to the window for washing. I survived to tell the tale.
3. As an adult, I also took my lunch to school. It was generally leftovers or something I had prepped on Sunday in 5 glass containers, since I eschew heating plastic. I also scold everyone I see doing it. When I first started teaching, our lunch ladies were the bomb freaking diggity. They made things from scratch, even when they had 200 pounds of rhubarb or some other government issued supplies. Homemade cookies, soups, and, my favorite, tuna salad. They always set aside a little cup for me, in case it sold out. They were sweet and motherly, making every kid feel special and every teacher respected. Then, the district privatized the food services, and it is utter crap.
4. The supreme ultimate packed lunch is a field trip lunch. Rules did not apply. Some kids had massive hoagies, those raw onions permeating even the impenetrable funk of school bus. We were all chomping on our premium chips. And, of course, we had a soda in our paper bag, wrapped in foil to keep it cold (science suggests this was not a thing since foil keeps things inside it warm). I remember kids getting on that early morning bus with full grocery bags and being incredulous that their parents could afford that much food! When I dug to the bottom of my bag, I always found a package of Tastykakes and had to lick the icing off first. Then, I bought a Jolly Rancher off of the kid next to me and thought I was in heaven.

There were no ice packs, no sushi, no parent dropping off McDonald’s or Starbucks. It was a simpler time and, as far as we knew, we were living high on the lunch hog.

Thanks for welcoming me back. I’m headed into the kitchen for some Jif and grape jelly on the world’s softest white bread. I might even add a few chips on that sammie for a salty crunch.