Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Dream a Little Dream

I had a nightmare this week. In it, I consumed McDonald’s.


I don’t discredit the success of McDonald’s and the world’s love of it, but oh dear readers, McDonald’s goes against all I believe in. And I don’t eat it. Ever. Not even while prego. Not even while starving and prego. Not even while starving and prego and it’s the only option for food.  This is all hypothetical, of course.

I have consumed the McCrack as a child, but I gave up fast food for Lent my junior year of college, and well, I’ve been grease and drive-thru free ever since.

Earlier in my pregnancy, my little sister Monica offered some words of wisdom, “Eat what your body wants. If you crave a Big Mac, just eat it, Susan.”

She didn’t say I would dream about the Golden Arches. Although my girl did warn me that dreams about old boyfriends will haunt me at some point during the nine months. That happened in July.

So, in my fast food dream, I was housing some Chicken McNuggets.


And family members were telling me I was getting really, really fat and this obviously caused me super major dismay. I immediately woke up surrounded by my fortress of pregnancy pillows in a cold sweat, headed straight to the bathroom because that’s what prego ladies do – we empty our bladders a lot – and then proceeded to toss and turn for a good hour before falling asleep for another crackhead dream.

Seriously, my night visions are so trippy. And I obsessively try to figure out what they mean.
Recent conclusion: You are a lunatic pregnant woman.

I often relay my psycho dream tales to The Husband, who just laughs and shakes his head.

Last week, all my sleepcapades were about TV.

I was a cast member of the "Jersey Shore," cooking with the Situation.

Later that evening, Dr. Patrick Drake of "General Hospital" fame and his Fatal Attraction-esque stalker Lisa were hanging out with me in my great room, which was in Port Charles.

I promptly decided during one of my late-night bathroom breaks that it was time for a good book.

Anyway, I don’t crave anything with “Mc” before it. But I recently really wanted some Sausage and Peppers.

I made mine with turkey sausage instead of regular pork sausage.

As The Husband noted, “You can’t even tell the difference.”

Sausage and pepper sandwiches evoke memories of street fairs and summer. Yay!

And the bell peppers are super delish this time of year.

Turkey Sausage and Pepper Sandwiches
(Makes 6 servings)

6 Italian turkey sausage links
1 large red bell pepper, in ¼-inch slices
1 large green bell pepper, in ¼-inch slices
½ large onion, sliced
1 Tbsp. olive oil
4 cloves of garlic, crushed
¼ tsp. or more to taste crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
½ cup water
Salt and pepper to taste
6 torpedo rolls

Using the tines of a fork, poke holes on each side of the sausage links.

Heat olive oil in a large pan over medium heat. Once heated, add sausage. Brown on all sides, about 10 to 12 minutes total.

Remove sausage from pan. Set aside.

Add bell pepper slices and onion. Saute for about 6-8 minutes. Add garlic cloves, red pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes more.

Add water. Bring to a gentle bubble. Return sausage to pan. Cover with the lid and cook over medium-low heat for 10-15 minutes.

Serve sausage and peppers on rolls.


  1. I think I may have a go at these with the turkey sausage for my family. The onions, peppers...look heavenly.

    I had to laugh at your dream with "The Situation" cooking with him? Did he keep lifting up his shirt to show you his muscles?

    All fast food is gross. I completely stopped eating all types of that food and the consuming of soda. At times, it was hard but I did it.

    Fun post!

  2. Kym,

    I gave up soda, too! Also, in college. I think I wanted my only vice to be vodka.

    ITA with you re: the grossness of fast food. I'm such a snob! Ha ha.

    Sitch had his shirt on, and we didn't drop anything. Everytime the JS cast is in the kitchen, wacky hijinks ensue, right?

    Thanks for stopping by.

  3. Maybe you can pass your dislike of fast food onto that little guy you're toting around.