Bologna

When the pianist and I were first married in 1957 we made our nest in Vancouver. The pianist was developing a culinary style that has served her for many years. Food was a major issue for my inlaws since my father inlaw was a wholesale grocer of note and his wife a discriminating cook and shopper. One day, shortly after settling in, I asked my newly wed if she would cook fried bologna for supper. She had never experienced such a request or even considered it before, but she gave it a try and it made her nauseated. I ate it alone that night and it was so-so, but the edges curled up rather badly. Much earlier, when I was a youngster, I recall a picture in a magazine of the King brothers. They were Hollywood producers and the photo showed them eating chunks of raw bologna from a big bologna tube and drinking ginger ale. That image captured my attention and I retained it up to my early marriage period. It must have been de rigueur in my mind since it came from Hollywood. It looked better to me then, than macaroni and cheese and better than canned spaghetti in tomato sauce. It seemed a dish fit for a King. It appeared moreover, like a dainty dish set before a King. I don't think that you can even buy a big tube of bologna now, as if anyone would really want to. I have never since, lusted after bologna. The pianist would ignore me if I did! Postscript. (The picture is Life Magazine, Nov 22, 1948, and lo and behold, it's salami not bologna!) A life long illusion shattered.