Apple in His Lunchbox

Clockwise from apple: fiscalini cheddar, medjool date, molinari salami, gouda pettig, my sprouted wheat bread, a shot of espresso, and Cocoa Programming. It's a far cry from the alfalfa sprout sandwiches of my youth -- and a further cry from the Lunchables I sometimes thought I wanted. It's to keep W. Crawford from buying lunch with his bicycle-money.

Bicycle-money definitely covers the cost of the golden balsamic vinegar and maple syrup with which we dressed our salad for a picnic on the beach by the craigslist house where W. Crawford bought his latest bike frame. Unfortunately, we also dressed everything else in the lunch-sack, including the beer and peach cobbler and gold-beet ravioli. A summer ago, he wooed me with beet ravioli. I plied him with apple pie....

And bicycle-money certainly must cover the breakfast of buffalo momos in the garden, and fig & prosciutto crepes I made for supper last night. Were it not for the biking and the chain-cleaning and the oh-dear-me bottom bracket, we wouldn't have been so hungry. So long as Apple keeps the apple in his lunchbox, I'll bring home the prosciutto, and the bicycle money will get us pretty far. Home?