Prenatally Exposed to McDonald’s?

“I want McDonald’s! Why can’t we have McDonald’s?” was a refrain that I started hearing from the very first day I brought Andrew home.   What was shocking about it was the emotional intensity that came with the pleading.  As a child, I can remember getting excited about a trip to McDonald’s, but for us it was a special and occasional treat and not a way of life.  For Andrew, McDonald’s had been one of the few consistencies of his childhood.  All else could be chaos, but McDonald’s was always there.  Deep down, I couldn’t but help think that some of Andrew’s behavioral issues were somehow tied to his “All American Diet.”

It would be easy to blame his mother.  However, it would be cruel to do so.  Andrew’s mother got up every morning and got him to school by 7:30 a.m.  From there she would get on a bus and travel over two hours to the homes that she cleaned until five or six at night.  Work finished, she would be back on the bus for another long two-hour ride home.  After picking Andrew up at the neighbor’s apartment, she would have just a couple of hours with her baby before bed.   I can’t blame her if she didn’t have the energy or time to fix a healthy meal.

I’m sure that sitting across from Andrew while he ate his Happy Meal was a precious moment his mother cherished.   I’m also sure that as Andrew tried to reconcile the loss of his only parent with the cruel fate of still being alive and alone, McDonald’s was a reminder that he had once been loved.

Still, I was determined to give Andrew a healthy alternative.  My own feelings about food were also deeply intertwined with my childhood memories and experiences, however different they were from Andrew’s.   My memories included nightly dinners around a table with parents, siblings, and a grandmother who lived with us.  Weekends were more of the same, only they included my other grandparents who lived close by.   When I think back on those days, it’s all family, kitchen and dining room.  It’s hot bread with home ground wheat, fried chicken, cinnamon rolls, buttermilk pancakes, custards, pies, and even homemade ice cream we cranked out in an ice cream maker that came from a World War II battleship.  These were my family’s precious moments and they didn’t include McDonald’s.

With Andrew suddenly in my life, I was keenly aware that I had spent the last 20 years of my life with very few of those moments I so cherished and I was determined to give that gift to him…and to myself.  Still, I needed to respect Andrew’s past and allow him some access to his brand of comfort food.  I accomplished this by striking a deal: I would take him to McDonald’s once a month.

He decided this was fair and I didn’t hear a word about it again, that is until the first day of March.  This kid could barely read, didn’t really know the days of the week or even the months of the year, but he knew when he was going to get to go to McDonald’s.  I took him to McDonald’s and for the rest of the month, there was no more talk about it.  In addition, Andrew happily ate almost everything I cooked. Then came the first day of April and on the way home from school I was reminded of where dinner would be.  Like clockwork, he announced the time and date of our McMeal on the first days of May and June.  Then the school year ended and it was time to take Andrew on our first road trip to Utah to visit Grandma and Grandpa.

“Road trips have different rules than regular life,” I explained to Andrew.

“Really? What are they?” he asked rather unenthusiastically as he expected some new structure by which he would have to abide.

“Well, you know how I believe in eating healthy meals and very little fast food most of the year?” I asked.

“Yeh”, he was still very cautious.

“During a road trip there are no rules about food.”

“Are you serious?” Andrew’s voice started to lighten up.

“I’m very serious.  We get to eat whatever we want.  Even McDonald’s!”

Andrew was ready to take off right then and there but had to wait for the following morning.  We stocked up on some junk food and hit the road.  We arrived in Barstow, CA around lunchtime and pulled into a McDonald’s that had incorporated a train as its dining room.  We ordered our meals and sat in the train.   Andrew beamed; he was happy as could be.

“You know what dad?”

“What son?”

“I love road trips.”

“Me, too.  It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

“You know what dad?”

“What son?”

“It’s like we were meant to be together.”

“I know what you mean.”

I hope Andrew grows up to raise a family around the kitchen table, but if his Mom’s McDonald’s experiences were anything like mine that precious day, I really understand why she kept going back.

__________________________________________________

Andrew eventually stopped marking the passage of time by the McDonald’s date each month.  The first time he forgot, he didn’t notice for almost three months.  Longer periods ensued until he no longer craved it at all.   We haven’t eaten at a McDonald’s in a couple of years and even on road trips, he asks for Subway.   That doesn’t mean we don’t have our own decadent forms of indulgence.  One of our favorite “fast food” diversions is panini, an Italian grilled cheese sandwich. However, that doesn’t quite do the panini justice, as a better translation would be an Italian taunt, “Whatever you can do, we can do better.”

My first real panini experience was at a train station in Rome some years ago.   I was running late for the train, but hadn’t eaten.  I flew up to an Italian style “fast food” counter and pointed to a sandwich with proscuitto and cheese.  The girl grabbed the sandwich and put it in what looked like a George Foreman Grill.  It took a lot longer than expected, but the result was incredible.  I decided they must put Crack in it.  I was hooked and bought a panini maker as soon as I got home.

Panini

More of a concept than a recipe.

Good Italian or sourdough bread, sliced

Sliced cheese of your choice:  Gruyere, Taleggio, Comte, Manchego, and similar semi-hard, good melting cheeses work great

Meat of your choice:  The photo is of one with prosciutto and one with Spanish chorizo

Fat of your choice:  Ours was made with duck fat, but butter (our usual), lard, olive oil, or even bacon grease make great options

A panini grill:  You could also use a grill pan with ridges and a clean brick

If you want to get some good ideas of great combos for a panini, steal a menu from your local fancy pizza place.  Take off the tomato sauce from the description and you will have a good sandwich.  Some options are:

• Proscuitto, Gruyere, and arrugula
• Manchego and Spanish chorizo
• Mozzarella, tomato, and basil
• Prosciutto, Comte cheese, and fresh sage

Pre-heat the grill on high.

Spread the duck fat or butter on what will be the outside of your sandwich bread.  Put your cheese and meat on the sandwich, place it on the grill, and close the lid.  Keep putting pressure on the grill as the sandwich as it cooks.  You want it to be quite flat and crispy.  When it looks too good to wait any longer, it’s ready.   If you use a grill pan, you will have to turn the sandwich over after about 3 or 4 minutes and repeat with the other side.

Provecho!