Saturday, June 14, 2008

Pregnancy Ambrosia

The cravings have begun.

While I was pregnant with Baby Girl, during the first trimester, I found myself revolted by coffee and chocolate (these eventually ebbed and I could stomache them), and drawn to--in ascending order--white cake with no frosting, fried eggs, and hot sauce. Specifically, Frank's Red Hot.

I am a follower of Cook's Illustrated, and I had read a while back when they were doing a taste comparison of hot sauces that, between Tobasco (regular flavor) and Frank's, Tobasco was an ingredient and Frank's was a condiment. I truly believe this and ever since have eschewed Tobasco as a topping to Frank's.

When I got pregnant with Baby Girl, I bought a big bottle of Frank's . . . and finished it during the first trimester. I then bought another big bottle and finished it during the second and third trimesters. After Baby Girl was born in 2006, I bought another big bottle and finished it up earlier this Spring.

What's amazing is that, while inundated with progesterone and the other chemicals your body tries to poison you with during pregnancy, I never tasted the hot. About a month after Baby Girl was born, Jason and I went out to eat for the first time and went to a local burrito place I like (for my re-entrée to society, that was about all I could handle). Jason brought our order to the table along with their special hot sauce I had requested. I then proceeded to pour it all over my food, Jason looking on blithely. I then took a bite and started to gag in pain. I looked up at Jason and asked him, "did I always put this much on my food?" and he just laughed and shook his head yes.

So far, I'm right on track. I think my first big bottle will be done about the time the first trimester winds down. And, this time around, I have found pasteurized raw eggs so I can safely enjoy my fried eggs over easy, the perfect way I like them, without giving myself dysentery and the baby listeria or whatever it is you get when you eat un-pasteurized things while pregnant.

The end moral of this story, of course, is not the freaky things pregnant women do, although that is an amusing bonus. No, it is what happened at dinner a couple of weeks ago. I had finished my rice and pork picadillo, which Baby Girl would not touch, and went to help myself to another big bowl of just rice while she was finishing her cheese quesadilla. I poured Frank's onto my rice, turning every grain into a little pink nugget. When I sat down, Roslyn indicated she wanted to try it. Thinking that this would be like rhubarb, I let her, figuring her to turn up her nose and shun such craziness. She finished my entire bowl of rice, and part of the next bowl, too.

Looks like these two siblings aren't going to have bland palates.

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