Die Hard Dinner

Written in a stream of consciousness. Unedited and Raw.

There’s nothing like the sizzle of a grilled cheese in a pan, accompanied by the bubbly pops of a simmering tomato bisque on a late Wednesday evening. I’ve had this meal more times than I can count, but while preparing it, I have a hop to my step—like a child about to see their first R-rated movie on the big screen. Fresh tomato bisque and grilled cheese is my Die Hard.

Perhaps this is what they mean by comfort food? I wouldn’t say I need any comforting; however, who doesn’t always want to be comfortable? I would much rather be in sweatpants and a sweater than a stiff suit as I eat my cheesy, creamy Wednesday night meal. I think I would look like a psychopath if I sat on my couch with a dinner tray in a perfectly pressed three-piece suit, slurping my soup and watching my documentary about a computer winning a chess championship.

I flip the sandwich over, revealing the golden-brown side of the once bread but now golden crust. The transformation has begun.