Hospital Food

I'm sitting in a hospital waiting room right now, watching the Hawks rally and wondering if a nap would be inappropriate. After they took her back, I headed down to the cafeteria and perused the offerings for something I could eat. It may sound crazy, but I actually don't mind eating at the hospital.

Now, before you think I, or someone I care about, spend copious amounts of time in the hospital, warranting my fondness for their cuisine, let me explain. My mother and I have worked at the school across the street from the hospital for several years. The two institutions were founded by and are still overseen, in varying degree, by the same group of Franciscan sisters, and it is not unusual for staff from the school to walk across for lunch, or even dinner on nights when they must stay late for conferences or programs. I have eaten in the hospital cafeteria more times than I can count, and I must say, usually the food is good.

I know, I know, hospital food? Good? It's true though.

One thing to remember about eating in any cafeteria is that you can't just start putting things on your tray. Look around, see all of what is available. One dish might seem very appealing, until you notice something even better, but by that point, if it's already on your tray, it's too late. I browsed for a few moments before settling on broiled Italian chicken, steamed broccoli in a bit of butter, and a salad from the salad bar. The salad bar is an undervalued asset in the cafeteria setting. I opted for the darker spring greens over the fairly nutrient empty iceberg mix, added shredded carrots, sliced hard-boiled egg and a little cheddar. Topped with a honey mustard dressing, this was truly a wonderful salad.

My only complaint with the meal is that in an effort to cut down dish washing and accommodate those who take their food and go, the cafeteria only uses Styrofoam dishes. (Sidenote: Welcome to the world precious one! I just heard the Brahms Lullaby being played over the hospital intercom, signaling a birth.) I hunted down a full size plate for my chicken and broccoli, rather than use two bowls plus another for salad, and I used real silverware. They'll just have to wash them.

A Mountain Dew to wash it down may help me stave off that nap, which probably would in fact be inappropriate at this point. Ok, I also had dessert. Zarlengo's, who you may have read about my post Onions, ash and leather, besides selling from their shop and at Sox games, also provide novelties to hospital cafeterias. I was finishing up a Zarbar, vanilla softserve on a stick, covered in smooth milk chocolate, when I began this post. (Another one! Welcome to you too little one!)

Onions, ash and leather

While I love to cook, and find that there is so much flavor to be explored, sometimes prepared foods give you a lot of flexibility. I was at the White Sox game tonight, and I had a delicious evening, all gluten free and all fantastic.

I started the evening with custom nachos from the Tex-Mex stand. These are not those horrible nachos of sporting even infamy, with neon orange gelatinous cheese. These are fully loaded, no cheese product sauce added, crisp bits of joy. At this stand, the customer chooses the base, much like at Chipotle Grill, then adds to it. As I cannot eat the gluten laden tortillas used for burritos or fajitas, I opt for the crisp corn chips. Complementing this crunch, I add soft, shredded chicken, juicy tomatoes, biting salsa, cool and creamy guacamole and a spattering of shredded cheese and lettuce. Nachos may be a finger food, but I always grab a fork for this monster sized dish.

A little later in the night, I ventured out to see a friend, selling Italian ice from a cart covered with a festive red, green and white umbrella. This is their first season with the White Sox, hopefully the first of many to come. Their's is not mass marketed, overly sweetened, bogged down with artificial flavoring Italian ice. It is smooth, creamy, cool and satisfying, handmade. My friend, who, along with his cousins, sells it at the games, also makes the ice, alongside his parents, brother and cousins. They work from a small, seasonal shop in Chicago Heights, IL, which has been providing the area with quality love on a spoon since 1983. Check out Zarlengo's Italian Ice & Gelato on the web or Facebook, but if you're in the area, you really just need to go there.

I had Oranges 'n' Creme Italian ice, which melted slowly in the heat, dripping down the cup to land with a splash upon my hand. It killed me to speed, even slightly, my consumption of this flavor experience, but until the ice was below the cup edge, it was in danger of dying a cruel death on the sidewalk, never fulfilling its purpose as a cool summer delight.

I've sampled several flavors of Zarlengo's Italian ice over the years. The tart lemon, mouthwatering strawberry, zesty pink lemonade and flavor explosion of Double Berry all satisfy and delight; however, Oranges 'n' Creme goes one step beyond. Creamy and smooth, with the texture of cool milk, it simply speaks of a hot summer night under the stadium lights, the smell of cut grass, beer and onions interwoven and dancing the air, the crack of ash against a leather-bound rubber ball. When I think of summer, Zarlengo's always makes an appearance.