9 My younger brother, Timmy, watched solemnly. His vocabulary was limited, but he knew what he saw.
10 “No more bad food,” Timmy exclaimed.
11 “Wait. Isn’t this a bit rash?” Mom objected. “Shouldn’t we at least ease into this, and do it in moderation?”
12 “Do you think Uncle Sylvio would want us to eat this food?” Dad replied reproachfully.
13 Dad always threw himself into things completely. But this time he was throwing in all of us with him.
14 Breakfasts were simplified: You could have anything you wanted as long as it was fruit. Dad cut up and ate two grapefruit for breakfast every morning. For a while, school lunches saved my older brother Matt and me. We could buy fries, a milkshake, and a hamburger at school. Then that got wise and started getting up early to prepare us vegetarian lunches- which were fine, but we certainly missed our occasional burger!
15 Suppers were particularly unpalatable. Matt began eating at this girlfriend’s house, and he didn’t even have a girlfriend. Mom would study the cookbook and start chopping vegetables and, at six o’clock when Dad come home, would serve a great heap of cooked and the raw seeds, stems, roots, and leaves. Timmy, who was at least allowed a cup of skim milk with each meal, was the first to voice our general discontent. After one particularly green meal, he asked, in a small, wistful voice, “Ham-bur?” Even my poor baby brother yearned for the days of the burger!
16 after a month of this, l was famished. I was more than ready for some traditional food - a steak, some fried chicken, chocolate chip ice cream, and scrambled eggs and bacon. I began spending a lot of time at my friend Juanita”s house in the hope that her mother would invite me to stay for supper.(Of course, the only time she invited me they were having a vegetarian meal )
17 Usually, Dad’s enthusiasms wane after a while. We waited hopefully for this to happen with the new diet. It wasn’t happening this time. As far as he was concerned, this diet was permanent. And we couldn’t argue with him. The fact was (and l looked in to it, believe me) he was right. The food we were eating now was a lot better us. As much as l appreciated his efforts, I couldn’t help but think a balance could be struck between our old and new family meal menus!
18 Halfway through the second month of the diet, I began to dream about spaghetti. Not just spaghetti – spaghetti with meatballs. Spaghetti the way mom made it, Wednesday spaghetti, with all the bells and whistles. I did more than dream. Secretly, with money l had earned from babysitting and odd jobs, l began collecting the ingredients for a spaghetti dinner. The little mound grew under my bed. Finally, I bought ground beef. Because it wouldn’t keep beneath my bed, I had to fish or cut bait!
19 as luck would have it, my mother worked late that day, and Dad had called to say he wouldn’t get home until six – thirty.
20 “All right,” Matt said when he saw what I was doing. He had cooked spaghetti once or twice, so he remained to supervise.
21 When Mom and Dad came through the door with Timmy, the table was set. The mingled odors of spaghetti sauce and toasted garlic bread spread throughout the house.
22 Dad gazed at the sauce bubbling on the stove. He didn’t say word as a first. Then he cleared his throat with authority. “Well, just Wednesday – night spaghetti – one meal each week. L guess one meal can’t hurt.”
23 it’s a good thing I made a lot.
24 so now we get one “traditional” meal a week – spaghetti on Wednesday. Everyone looks forward to Wednesday nights.
25 lately I’ve been dreaming about pizza. Pizza with sausage and ripe olives. We always used to have pizza on Saturday for lunch……