More than one way

For the last week I have had an urge for an Italian submarine sandwich like I used to buy when I was a kid and worked for a newspaper in Lawrence. The paper was half way between the paper and Reading where I lived. Many nights on the way home, I stopped for the sub.

Then I realised I could make my own sub.

I bought the cold cuts from the sausage dealer on the marché, cheese and tomatoes from the green grocer and of course bread still warm from the oven at the boulangerie. I already had the pickles.

I try and eat healthily. I try and eat at least five veggies and fruits a day and over the course of a week I want to make sure I sample all vitamins and minerals that exist. Not hard, I love veggies, fruits and grains.

For years I was a cocalcoholic guzzling down at least 2 liters a day. I gave it and dropped 25 pounds. 

My husband likes Coke Zero and although I can resist it, I have been known to take a zip from his glass. He also eats other junk which I prefer to stay away from.

However, this substitute sub called, no make that screamed for, chips/crisps for my Brit friends, and a Coke. 

Rick had left a few chips/crisps and a bottle of Zero in the Frigo before leaving for TX/FL.

I cracked.

Only I couldn't open the bottle. At the best of times my hands have not been strong, but chemo has left the fingers numb.

I struggled and struggled. I thought I had an opener/nutcracker but couldn't locate it. It must be hiding with mortar and pestle, I thought, which I haven't been able to locate.

Finally I gave up, grabbed the bottle and headed for the tea room La Noisette down the street to ask them to open it. Since it is my home away from home, I wasn't shy.

On the way I passed a young couple. I explained my problem. The girl opened the bottle. I will save help from La Noisette for a different time.

Back home, when I looked for the cheese slicer, the bottle open was under it.

The mortar and pestle are still missing.