One of my earliest memories is when I was about five or six. I was sick and doctors used to come to the house. (NO, I DID NOT live in a little house on the prairie next door to the Ingalls, you stop that!) That is the one and only time we had a doctor to the house, but I do remember it vividly!
Well, I'd had dinner (in my life, I think I've been too sick to eat maybe once) and felt very poorly and was put to bed. By 7:30 that evening, in walked Dr. Reagan, our pediatrician, black bag in his large cold hands. I lay there waiting for him to make me feel better and smooth the worried look off Mom's and Dad's faces. He lowered the blankets and started poking around my tummy, pushing down and rubbing around .......
"Hmmmm.....MEAT LOAF....." he said. My eyebrows had to have shot up. How'd he KNOW that? "...and mashed potatoes....and peas!" He described the whole dinner from feeling my stomach and that was one amazed six year old laying in that bed let me tell you. Magic, I thought! Dr. Reagan can tell THAT from doing THAT? He's brilliant! Boy, does he KNOW HIS FOOD! (or should I say MINE?!)
Later, Mom told me that he passed the kitchen and asked what we'd had for dinner. Smart doctor, huh? And I've never forgotten that.
Do you have a childhood food story you'd like to share?
*half the title of this post is brazenly stolen from a Bill Cosby album...:-)