In spite of being up north over the Thanksgiving weekend, I still managed to spend most of my time up there hungry. Except for Thursday evening, of course. Matt’s grandpa stocks the cabin with mostly Spam, canned corned beef, sardines, and canned beef stew. Of course, we arrived just as everyone was leaving to go to dinner and then back home, so grandpa took a lot of the non-canned food with him, as well as packing up some of the little snacks Matt and I brought for ourselves.
He did, however, leave packets of oatmeal, lots of eggs, and a quart of milk. I was ravenous, as usual, Friday night, after a disappointing hunt in the cold. Matt was opening up yet another can of beef stew- his second, and he’d have one for breakfast the next morning too. I don’t know how he does it- I’ve been anti-canned food ever since hitting about 17 and being able to turn down my mom’s canned peas and green beans. The only canned food I’ll voluntarily eat is corn. Matt and cold-induced hunger both have to twist my arm to eat canned soup from the Mr. Heater when we’re ice fishing. I’m always coming up with more creative ways to sneak fresh or home made stuff into the sled and onto the ice. Call it snobbery, I guess.
Spying the eggs, milk, and an orphaned jar of salsa, I kludged together a bit of half-assed brinner: tortilla-less Log Cabin Huevos Rancheros via wood stove.
Two eggs and some salsa was enough to get me through the night, but not enough to tide me through a morning hunt the next day. Even though Saturday was warmer (hovering around freezing, a heat wave!), being in the cold just makes me pig out. I’d have three packets of oatmeal for brunch after getting out of the stand.