Ha! Hot Dog Heaven

I should have been suspicious when I got the e-mail this morning:

I have an errand I need to do in the West End. Would you consider having lunch with me there at one of my favorite places?

I should have been suspicious when I met him at his office and was gifted with a beautiful pair of leather driving gloves that fit like, well, a glove. (Full disclosure: He'd ordered them for himself, they were way too small so he'd returned them; the vendor said they'd been "crinkled" in transit and wouldn't accept them so he'd had to order himself another pair) He immediately thought of me because doesn't everyone with a ten-year old Altima need driving gloves? Even so, the timing...

The point is that this is an old friend, one who knows me very well and would never ask me to the West End unless he had a good reason...or a sense of humor and he had both.

So off we went to run his errand which amounted to dropping off a flat tire at Costco's tire center to be fixed. He then pulled out from in front of the automotive department and into a parking space.

Rummaging through his toll money, he pulled out three dollar coins and a quarter. "Hungry?" he grinned. "Cheapest, best lunch in town."

But I got the last laugh. First, he presumed that it was my first trip to Costco, but a girlfriend had already given me my one and only Costco experience. Second, I love a good hot dog, so I wasn't the least bit disappointed at the prospect of a Hebrew National for lunch.

I must exude the air of a person who doesn't dig dogs. Not so. Just this summer while at the beach, I'd spotted Hebrew Nationals on a bar menu, but when I went to order one, the kitchen was closed. The friend who was with me that night was dumbfounded. "You like hot dogs?"

The next day the same friend went to the store to get HBs for lunch. I enjoyed two dogs with mustard, relish and onions while sitting on the porch swing staring at the ocean and thought nothing more of it.

Months later when the subject of hot dogs came up at a party, my friend was quick to tell our group, "You should see how fast Karen can eat two hot dogs!" I hadn't realized my eating speed had been noted or even that my speed was out of the ordinary. Doesn't everyone devour their dogs?

As I did today after loading it up with mustard, onions and sauerkraut. I was especially enamored of the onion dispenser's crank mechanism, allowing me the satisfaction of chopping my onions in a unique-to-me manner. I'm a big fan of the new experience, not to mention a fan of lunch for two with drinks for $3.15.

And, yes, I finished my hot dog long before my manly friend did. The joke was on him.

Give a Girl a Break

Did the male half of the population get a memo yesterday to divest themselves of their womenfolk?

How could this be happening to yet another of my friends?

After an evening of comforting a friend about the unceremonious end to her relationship yesterday, I came home to this e-mail: "Seriously. Got dumped. Ice cold style."

With no more information than that, I suggested she call me today and we'd talk.

She invited me to join her as she ran some shopping errands and while my distaste for most shopping is well-known, this was all about food, the only kind of shopping I can stand.

Besides, it would give us plenty of time to discuss the dead end her relationship had suddenly reached.

She started telling me the details as soon as I got in the car and continued in the car long after we arrived at our destination.

It was easier to get the facts, just the facts, over before we got around other people.

Discussion could follow anywhere...and did.

Not surprisingly, she had a bit of a hangover, so we necessarily started with lunch.

At Sprout, she had the curried chicken salad over Manakintowne greens and I had cucumber, bacon, tomato and goat cheese over the same greens.

It's such a great time of the year for out-of-the-garden goodness and both of us were impressed with our choices.

Sprout continues to deliver on taste while making it incredibly easy to be a locavore.

Our shopping began at Costco, and we were an unlikely pair since she's so much a regular that the cashiers know her by name and it was my first time ever.

Yes, I was a Costco virgin (and, believe me, only gave it up for a really good friend).

We already knew that this would be the least enjoyable part of the trip, so we made short work of her list and got out of there.

Tan-A Market was our second stop and here we lingered, admiring all the colorful cans, so many containing unfamiliar foods and ingredients.

My friend commented that if she had open-front cabinets, it would be here that she'd stock up on unusual canned goods for their visual presence and only afterwards figure out what dishes to use them in.

I could see the beauty of her offbeat plan.

Finally we got to Bodega Latina, partly to shop and partly to eat again.

The music was awesome; I commented on how much I was liking it and she said, "Don't you wish you knew Spanish so you'd know what they're singing?"

Kind of, but the music was interesting enough without comprehension. Surely they couldn't be singing about anything bad.

We were there for Mexican Cokes and pupusas revueltas (thick corn tortillas, chicharron, loroco queso and frijol) with curtido (fermented cabbage slaw with red chiles).

You'd think we hadn't just had lunch a couple of hours previously.

Actually, you'd be closer to the truth to guess that I'm not used to all that shopping and she was still sopping up last night's hurt.

I loved the pupusas, but next time, when I haven't already eaten, I'll definitely go for the tongue tacos (self-deprecating headline to follow).

Much like last night, I could offer little advice, only an empathetic ear for a friend who has been hurt.

If I knew the answer to getting over a relationship, I'd be practicing it myself.

She complimented me on my ability to maintain such a positive outlook when so much has not worked out in my own life the past year and a half.

As I pointed out to her, the alternative is pretty unappealing.

Compartmentalize, put a smile on your attitude and move forward.

And don't hesitate to resort to extra lunches and long talks with friends when necessary.

And for the rest of you guys who got that dumping memo, please rip it up.

You're making my friends really sad.

Not to mention putting me in a position where I have to go to (eww!) meat markets and (egads!) shopping in the name of offering support.

It's nowhere near as bad as being dumped, but it's not easy, either.