<phone ringing>
<a man stares wistfully into the twilight from his bedroom window>
<the recipient of the call picks up>
“Hello, old friend. I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. The world, sure. But more than that, things like food. Sustenance, and I had a thought, and would like to challenge you to a bet.”
“Oh yes? What’s that?”
“I’d like to place a $10 wager on the idea that Chef Jessica Gorin can make the best Benedict in Champaign-Urbana.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Triple S ham? Farm fresh eggs? Smoked paprika hollandaise? Just a call.”
“A call? What the hell does that mean anyway? I am actually getting tired of you calling me late at night, speaking in prose and weirding me out. We’re friends and all but what kind of drugs are you hopped up on this time, Johnson?”
“I don’t know. I can’t totally make sense of it. But it’s a call. Yes, a call! A call is something about how I am calling it, as in, I am predicting that it will be better than any other Benedict in town. Isn’t that important to you, old friend?”
“No, not really. And you are a really odd person, but, I will take that wager, and when you lose, you will buy me a plate of them as well.”
“Deal.”
<recipient hangs up>
<caller clenches his fist and looks up for a brief moment, hopeful, and dismayed>
New at Big Grove this weekend:
Triple S Ham Benedict:
two poached farm eggs, Triple S Ham, smoked paprika hollandaise, house made English muffin served with mixed greens
SOLD.