I am the master of very little -- Madden '93 for Super Nintendo comes to mind, and maybe Wiffle ball. But I was reminded over the weekend of another great talent: Turning a healthy meal into a fabulously unhealthy one.
After I'd spent a few days forcing her to eat large quantities of meat, my better half did what better halves sometimes do: She got fixated on salad. What ever convinced people that salad is anything more than a vehicle for croutons and salad dressing confounds me, but I also know when to shut up and get along. So off we went to The Mixx, the chic salad dispenser just south of the Plaza.
But after prepping myself mentally for a lunch of wet greens (and plotting my midafternoon ice cream run), I entered The Mixx's sleek space to discover, thank God, a sandwich menu. And on it was a mouth-watering selection of what appeared to be nap-inducing creations loaded with some of my favorite sandwich provisions -- marinated steak, blue cheese aioli, smoked ham, more meat, more cheese, more sauce.
By the time the adorably cowboy-hatted and nose-ringed boss came bounding up to take my order, I had settled on my Weapon of Afternoon Destruction: The pretzel chicken sandwich, pictured above, loaded with grilled chicken, grilled onions, pepper jack cheese and garlic aioli, all nestled on (in my case) a crispy baguette. Operation Face Stuff was under way.
The sando came quickly, alongside a heavy pasta salad and a frosty, full-strength fountain soda. So did the missus's Main Street Chop Chop, which featured something called "lentils." (I believe it's Yiddish for "disappointment.") She ate it happily and daintily, and didn't seem upset with her choice.
I guess she was a little frustrated later that day, when I was horizontal and she was still upright. But I was too happy to notice.