Important National Holiday

Much to the dismay of my somewhat patrician mother, I was more of a plebeian in my early tastes. Maybe it was that Irish blood, something her family dreaded when she had the good sense to marry my Dad over their objections. Whatever the reason, I just loved a bologna sandwich on gooshy white bread with iceberg lettuce and lots of mayo.

I still do.

I had my first one at a friend's house, as my mother would never buy bologna, or white bread, or iceberg lettuce.

My tastes have changed a little since those days, but I still do enjoy two slabs of pink meat between two slices of bread with a scrape of mayo and a crisp leaf of sweet iceberg to give it crunch. These days, the bread is better than the Wondrous stuff I loved back then, but the rest hasn't changed.

So, when My Beloved informed me on Monday that Friday would be National Bologna Day, I rushed out to the supermarket to buy the fixings for the grand celebration. I admit that my snooty side was tempted to purchase some of the excellent Fra Mani mortadella instead, but I remained staunchly true to the original, lowly though it may be, and bought a plastic package of the brand that the little kid used to sing about.

Happy Bologna Day, one and all!