First things first, some of you have asked what happened to the final post of the last trip. Basically, it was a long trip home and I went right into work and, long story short, wiped my phone clean and have none of the pictures from dinner the last night in Washington DC.  In summary, it was fantastic. Best falafel I’ve ever had.

 

Okay, so about a year ago Alton Brown came to Fort Wayne and performed his Edible Inevitable Tour and my mother, brother, and sister-in-law all went together. It was an incredible experience so this year, when he announced his Eat Your Science Tour and decided not to come to Fort Wayne, we decided to go to him. The only problem is that it was on a school night and it was TWO HOURS AWAY. So my mother got four tickets for herself, myself, Emily (sister), and Adrienne.

 

We left work a little early, met at my mother’s, made sandwiches, and jumped in the car. Sounds simple, right? It was, at least until Emily asked one of the most dangerous questions in the English language: did you count the tickets? In fact, no one actually had, we were all operating under the reasonable presumption that the number of invites was precisely equal to the number of tickets. And it was. Off. By. One.

 

We scrambled to make sense of this. Did an extra person show up uninvited? Were we charged for a ticket that was not sent? Had the fundamental laws of arithmetic suddenly and without warning changed? No, they had not.

 

So we called the ticket office and lo! and behold! the very seat next to our group was literally still open! The Food God had smiled upon us! So we had the ticket sent to will call (initially I capitalized those two words but it had the appearance of a person, so I went with italics, I hope you like it) and wrapped up our sandwich-consuming behaviors and, again, jumped in the car. At this point we were, and you should be in no way surprised, running late.

 

For the sandwiches: my mother has started purchasing better quality breads and I simply cannot impress upon you the importance of a good slice of bread for sandwiches. Rather, the importance of a good slice of toast. For this sandwich, I chose two slices of a loaf of brioche, and toasted it just so.

 

Sandwich meat is typically sliced very thin. This is to increase the surface area of the meat to increase the flavor conveyed by the meat on the sandwich. So many of us pile meat onto a sandwich, with cheese and condiment on either side, but really your best bet is separate each slice of meat. By separating two slices of meat with a leaf of lettuce or bit of tomato or even a squirt of condiment you can really improve the quality of your sandwich. I had several slices of turkey separated by leaves of butter lettuce, freshly sliced tomato, a bit of mayo (more than I needed, really), and some habanero cheddar. It was heaven in a little package.

 

The ride up was mostly just driving with only a few notable exceptions: first we drove past the best Taco Bell in the known universe. I had eaten there many a time when I was on my surgery rotation as a third-year medical student. I can still recall that legendary double-decker taco supreme: the tortillas broke in perfect lines, the meat was piping hot, the sour cream was still cold, and even the lettuce was crispy! Secondly, Emily entertained us with her karaoke of Adele, Christina, and Joe Jonas’s Cake By the Ocean, and we even looked up what that means! (Look it up, I dare you!)

 

So we arrived just barely on time to the show, made our respective ways to our respective restrooms, picked up the notorious ticket at will call, and sat down. Front row of the balcony, basically perfect seats! The show was on campus at Western Michigan University, so there were a lot of college students, but it was overall a lively crowd and an excellent show. I wouldn’t feel right to give away anything about his show, except to say that he talked about food a fair amount.

 

After the show, we tried to put our faces back together, jumped back in Mom’s trusty Outback, and headed for home. Some of us had to work the next day, afterall. The trip was easier headed home as there was considerably less wind. We passed around a bag of snacks we had brought including some Chicago mix popcorn (which I can confirm to be the mushroom variety of popped corn in a mix of cheese and caramel), fruit snacks, and Cheez-Its. I really do need to try Alton’s umami powder recipe.

 

“Tensions got a little heated in the back seat,” it was confirmed from a unanimous source, “particularly once Emily’s feet got so hot that she took off her socks. No one likes someone who takes their socks off of their hot feet in a closed car like that.”

 

After I dropped Emily and Mom off, Adrienne and I left in separate cars with her behind me. At this point, it was 12:50am and we both had to work in the morning. We headed north on West Hamilton Rd South, through densely wooded, winding, and curvy road. I had been up since nearly 5:30 the previous morning and had driven the entire trip when I caught out of the corner of my periphery two little yellow eyes off on the right side of the road. I immediately identified the potential threat and decelerated as quickly as possible, however it was too close and Adrienne was close behind me so I couldn’t slam on the brakes, so I safely but harshly decelerated and redirected to the opposite side of the road and watched as an opossum popped out from the foliage and darted first in front, then hesitated, as if he were thinking about turning back, then he went for it! Crossing the road as quickly as he could I continued to veer until I was completely on the other side of the road and I thought I saw him stop and realize what was happening. I continued on presuming I’d missed him until THUMP! pause THUMP! and half of the car shook as only the passenger set of tires traversed a marsupial speed bump. I was literally the second-to-last person to see this animal alive. Adrienne saw nothing but me careening my vehicle around like a madman until she saw my tail lights jump-up on only one side of my car and then she saw it. I literally watched the life go out of that possum’s eyes, she later told me. When I got home, I checked my wheel wells for carnage: there wasn’t a trace. By this time, it was past 1am and I had to work in the morning, so I called it a night. An umami-and-possum night.