The other day, I got nostalgic for something I never even liked as a kid.

I’m sure our school lunches were generally no better or worse than most schools, but it also is the case that kids have to complain.  So my standard line even now is “everything served in the Cannon Falls High School lunchroom was horrible.”   But as I recall, there really were only two truly terrible things our high school lunchroom produced:  beef patties on a bun, and chicken a la king.

Notice I expressly did not say “hamburgers.”  They were not hamburgers.  The beef patties were frightening because they were not grilled – I’m not even sure how much beef was in the beef patties.  I suppose it was necessary, but our “chefs” “cooked” them in the ovens, layering frozen patties into large baking pans.  They didn’t so much fry as they did boil.  I don’t know the biochemical reason, but somehow the baking/boiling process transformed mediocre frozen meat patties into appalling, gray, awful-tasting slabs of pseudo meat.  No amount of catsup or mustard or pickles or relish or buns or anything else could overcome the taste of the boiled gray meat.

The other really horrible dish I remember was chicken a la king, and I really don’t know why I thought it was so horrible.  The Cannon Falls High School lunchroom version of the dish was made with a simple gooey chicken gravy over baking powder biscuits.  As an adult, I like baking powder biscuits.  I also really have no problem with gooey chicken gravy (like the kind that is part of a canned chow mein kit – yum).  But, as a kid, the combination made me retch.

So imagine my surprise the other day when I got a whiff of the scent of chicken gravy – the kind they used in Cannon Falls – and, far from retching, I had a pleasant recollection combined with present hunger.  I realize my tastes have changed (not that I am claiming any sort of sophistication relating to baking powder biscuits and gooey – too much corn starch — gravy), but somehow these changed tastes have altered my prior memories.  I know I hated chicken a la king, but I can’t now conjure the actual distaste – unlike my ability to fully conjure the taste of canned school corn on the way back up in a tragic school-related puking incident.