I’m going to set the stage for you. Many of you know that I’ve not been well and have been struggling with a condition that has really messed up my plans. My daughter (She’s a nurse practitioner) urged me to go on a diet called, “The Elimination Diet” to improve my health. It is called that because it eliminates almost everything you like to eat. No seed oils so no eating out. No added sugar- eliminates a lot of sauces and things like dill pickles. No legumes. That means no beans, lentils, or peanut butter. No gluten which eliminates anything made with flour and barley and other grains. No dairy including butter.

This diet has left me struggling, but my daughter says it’s helping. Well, I have to agree with her that something is helping but I’m trying so many things, it’s difficult to figure out which one is having an effect. Since starting the diet, my pain has decreased, and my mobility has improved.  However, my feet and legs are still swollen.

Well, enough complaining. Let’s get to the meat of the matter.

Being on this diet has given me lots of dreams of food. I dream of my mom’s fried chicken dipped in egg and rolled in flour, with mashed potatoes smothered in gravy made with flour, and, to top things off, buttermilk biscuits drenched in butter. In my dreams, I never get to eat any of these delicious foods. They are put in front of me, and I just get to stare at them. What a drag! Well, the other night I had one of those dreams that tops them all.

I pull into a parking lot of a strip mall. I’m in such a hurry, I park crooked. A man in a pick-up truck starts yelling at me that I need to move my car so he can park. I ignore him. My focus is on getting to the door of the one shop that’s open. All the other stores look closed, abandoned and one even looks burned out. But this one store shines like a full moon on a clear night.

I enter the store and find it’s a bakery. My mouth waters as I view doughnuts filled with pineapple, lemon, and raspberry. Maple bars entice me from the display case with their light brown frosting infused with maple syrup. A cream filled éclair waves at me like a street walker leaning on a late-night lamp post. And there is a cream puff looking so light it could float out of your hands if taken out of the display. Then there are the cinnamon rolls looking like they are ready to do some business. All the cinnamon rolls are saturated with cinnamon, covered with sweet, sticky glaze and sprinkled with chopped nuts.

The store is quickly filling up with customers. I start to order one of the pastries, but I notice that one corner of the store is selling ice cream. My mind changes. Ice cream! I casually wander in that direction. They don’t have many choices because all of the ice cream is made in the store. There’s creamy vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, raspberry swirl, and peachy peach. But something else catches my eye. They make drumsticks…OMG! I nearly fall over.

Drumsticks have always been one of my favorite treats. The creamy vanilla ice cream filling a chewy cone topped with dark chocolate and nuts is irresistible to me. I would do almost anything to be able to wrap my lips around a drumstick.

They assemble them right there in front of you. I attempt to order one. Unfortunately, a lady pushes past me and gets her order in first. I get to watch as the ice cream girl takes out a freshly made chewy cone. She liberally scoops extra creamy vanilla ice cream into it making sure the ice cream fills the entire cone to the bottom and piles it on the top to dizzying heights. Then she dips this monstrous cone in a chocolate sauce that is dark as the darkest night. I notice that she’s careful to dip it deep enough so that the chocolate covers part of the cone. My thoughts quietly thank her for that. Then she sprinkles a few chopped nuts on top. I go absolutely crazy as she dips that drumstick in the chocolate one more time sprinkling more chopped nuts on top to finish.

The lady takes her drumstick throwing a dirty look at me as if I would snatch the cone from her hands. I would if that was the only one. But there are more to be made, so I order one. Unfortunately, two big bruisers show up, guys you would expect to be bouncers at a bar. The ice cream girl is unresponsive to my attempts to order a drumstick and the two gentlemen make it clear they are going outside the shop and I’m going with them. They pick me up and deposit me on the sidewalk outside.

I stare at the shop now filled with happy customers going in and exiting with their treats. I picture the drumstick again and am suddenly aroused. I wake up with drumsticks on my mind.