Wasabi Sunshine

We arrived in the post-partem room (kind of like a hotel room but with a nurse and you never really leave it) after normal food delivery hours. I was so focused on the birth that I didn’t realize I was hungry. The vending machines at the hospital were like a magical wonderland once 11pm rolled around. All sorts of frozen microwaveable things, and each machine took credit cards.

One of the machines had a single frozen Johnsonville smoked bratwurst in a soft bun (like a pig-in-a-blanket) and I noshed on that so hard. It was so immensely satisfying, I instantly declared it the best thing I have ever eaten.

Even the normal hospital food has this effect. No matter what kind of semi-microwaved, partially-processed blandness I order, I scarf it down like a Dickensian orphan. Here are a few of my meals, which I will probably look back fondly upon despite their relative trashiness.