On dreams and dairy

I don’t often have vivid dreams, but last night I did. I dreamed I was a contestant on The Next Iron Chef. I guess it’s not terribly odd as I’ve become a pretty big fan of the show and I find myself wanting to become a better cook the more Food Network I watch. What’s weird is how completely sane and average the dream was. I mean, even the rare times I have a vivid dream and it’s about something mundane, fantastic things usually happen. There is often flight or some other kind of superhuman or supernatural goings on. This time, we just cooked.

I also remember what I cooked. I pounded out a chicken and pork cutlet very thin, almost paper thin (guess that’s a bit of fantasy). I then wrapped them around some sliced veggies and a fish stick. Can’t remember what fish I used, but I cut and breaded it myself in the dream. I wrapped the cutlets around the veggies and fish stick and then deep fried the entire thing. I’m almost thinking this isn’t sounding too bad.

Oddly, I was so proud of what I’d came up with. I was sure I had the winning dish. Alas, it wasn’t to be. I was beaten out by Amanda Freitag, who is an actual contestant on the current iteration of the show. Man, I was bummed (even though she’s my favorite to win the actual show). I had to, in my dream, placate myself with an amazing caramel apple cake.

Maybe it was the lortab I had to take yesterday, but that was a damn fine dream.