...and anybody cool enough to do something like that deserves a response. So, here are my answers to the Five Things to Eat Before Being Eaten (by worms or dust mites depending on my fate) Meme dear Guffie left me:

One: I've had a bad hunkering for a plate of fried scrimps lately, but not just any ole fried scrimps. I NEEDS me some fried scrimps from Middle of the Isle on Wrightsville Beach, North Cackalacki. This was regular lunch fare back when I worked at the brokerage firm in Wilmington, and at the time, for a whopping $6.50 you could get a HUGE plate of fried shrimp with three vegetables (or one vegetable and a salad) and an iced tea. And if you called ahead, it would be waiting for you. They were even kind enough to toss in a little thing of homemade ranch dressing to dip my shrimp in. And it was heavenly. MOI was, probably still is, one of those hole in the wall dives, a place you'd look at from the outside and say to yourself, "There ain't no way in hell I'm eatin' there." But as you waddled away from the table, you were oh-so-glad you did. Crap, I'm drooling already.

Two: My mother was born and raised in Baltimore, and I spent a large part of my growing-up years living on the Intracoastal Waterway. This meant that we often ate crab--not any ole crab, mind you, but lovely Blue crab. MMMM. Mom always had friends in the right places, and we'd often wake up on a Saturday or Sunday morning and find a five gallon bucket full of those wonderful crustaceans sitting at our door. Mom would take them in and steam them, often calling Sister the Second (who loved crab probably more than my mother) so she could hear them scream as she put them in the steamer. Then we'd pick and eat--not only did this mean negative calories (you can burn more calories picking crabs than eating them--it's labor intensive), but there was an entire ceremony that went along with it--the laying of the newspaper, the placing of all the nut crackers and picks and extra Old Bay seasoning and melted butter. Good food, good conversations. I needs me some crab, too.

Would you believe me at this point if I told you I really am not a fan of seafood? I'm not.

Three: While I'm not going to be able to make it back home this year to see family, my Sister in Law is coming to Europe later this year on a tour with her mom, a sister and a friend, so I hope to shed some of this at times unbearable homesickness. They'll be touring the Rhine river and hitting the Christmas markets and we plan on meeting up in Strasbourg. Any excuse to go to Strasbourg is a good excuse in my book, because good food is to be had there. For number three we can count any Alsatian specialty, be it tarte flambée or baeckeoffe, or even choucroute--just seems odd to me, with my German, sauerkraut-eating roots, that the French claim it as a specialty, but Marc assures me Alsace is Alsace, not France.

Four: I think I'll continue the food tour, and head over to Asia now, to Thailand specifically, where I'd love to sit down to a big fat bowl of Pad Ki Mow (if memory serves me correctly--I have a hard enough time with English and French, so forgive me if Thai isn't a strong point). Its a dish of wide flat rice noodles, chunky veggies, and different meats all stir-fried together in these spices that are just... I'm drooling again. It's wonderful, and I so need to taste it in the proper setting.

Five: I think I'll cheat here and put not a thing I want to eat, but a way to eat. It's my blog and I can cheat if I want to, cheat if I want to, cheat if I want to...sorry. I'd like to sit down to either Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner with my entire family, just for once in my life, now that I'm old enough to remember it and appreciate it. It would be nice if we could all learn to get along, or at least learn to keep our mouths shut when needed. Just once. So if Marc and I ever can afford to make it home again, we won't have the added expense of driving to all corners of the country to see the people we need to see. But I have as much chance of seeing that dream come true as my grand-mother does of getting a glass of ice water where she's hanging out.

I need to go beat my kids and work on the mountain of laundry waiting for me in front of the washing machine. So now, Cathy, Linda, Crispy? DeeDee? Y'all it? Maybe?