Childhood Foods

I ate a hot dog last night and it brought me back to my childhood weekends at Grandma and Grandpa's. Nathan's on the boardwalk served fat stubby crinkled french fries in a paper cone. They were so good with a squirt of ketchup. Sunday mornings Grandpa would take us on a drive in his convertible from Brighton Beach to Manhattan. He'd smoke a cigar as we cruised a quiet, deserted Midtown, and we'd stop and eat hot dogs under the Sabrett umbrella. Later Grandma would take us for slices of NYC pizza on Coney Island Avenue. Once a fat lady walked by, and Grandma said under her breath God forbid I ever get that big.

My grandparents ate like 12-year-olds who had just come into money.