This past week I saw a pair of trumpeter swans a'swimming on Swan Lake in Wyoming.
Lunch time, and nothing at all sounded appealing. It had been a rough morning, and I was looking for comfort. I headed out, bee-lining for an overpriced garlic miso fried chicken rice bowl and a bottle of Mexican Coke. In my adulthood I've realized that comfort food sometimes doesn't so much mean food that is comforting as it means food that is so delicious that even when your emotions have decimated your appetite, you can still eat it.