"Fritos Fetish...Ole'"

I’ve put a contract out on my friend, Karen. Slow and painful’s not in the budget, had to go sniper.

Karen is my writer friend. She and I meet weekly to discuss where we’re headed in our writing careers. We talk about writing goals we’ve accomplished over the past week and where we’re headed with them in the next. We also talk about “stuff”.

Last week, while discussing “stuff”, Fritos came up. You know Fritos. Those salty, deliciously greasy, corn chips unless they’re of the scooping variety, are pretty much used for nothing other than empty, calorie consumption. Yes, people, those Fritos.

So what does Karen tell me? There’s now a less salty version on the market. Leaning in a little closer; with a deep, inquisitive tone, I said, “There is?”.

You see, I love Fritos and I, mean, I really LOVE Fritos! Don’t eat ‘em much because of the salt. Come to my house for dinner and we’ll both be looking for the salt shaker if you’re in need, because I never use it. Don’t have a “problem” with salt, just don’t really like it all that much unless it’s on potato chips, corn on the cob, French fries, ham flavored Ruffles found in Spain or my, beloved Fritos.

And it’s not altogether just about the Fritos; it’s also about “Beef Ole’”.

Growing up, my mother made “Beef Ole’”. Think of it as a Midwestern, white woman’s, version of taco salad. Not sure what seasoning company produced the little, taste bud enhancing, packet of “Beef Ole’” mix, but they discontinued it a long time ago. Just add a pound of browned, ground beef; serve it up hot over a mound of Fritos; sprinkle on, or mountain ‘er on up with fresh, grated cheddar cheese, tomatoes, onions and lettuce and there you have it “Beef Ole’”.

Seem to recall, when “Beef Ole’” was on the menu, it was pretty much the only time we had fresh vegetables; other than that, they were either canned or frozen - well, except for mashed potatoes, if served up during the week, those were usually freeze-dried, flakes from a box.

Back to the Fritos. On Thursday afternoon, I went in search of them. Karen told me they were a bit hard to find but Albertson’s was the best bet and, BINGO!, wouldn’t you know the first store I went to stocked them…SCORE! I cringed at the $2.99 price for a smallish, sized bag but told myself, HEL-LO!, we’re talkin’ “lightly salted” Fritos here!

Surprisingly enough, the bag made it to the car. Not necessarily unopened, but it did make it. The steering wheel became a bit slick, but I got home safely, and the bag stayed around until sometime Friday. That was a little over a week ago.

Somehow, since then, another two bags found their way to my door and, really, who would do such a thing other than some crazed, glassy-eyed, Frito-aholic?

Oh wait, thanks to my friend, Karen, that would be me!

Here’s hoping the binging will end soon, and then I’ll put “lightly salted” Fritos in the same category as chocolate, covered, peanut butter filled pretzels from Trader Joe’s. Definitely can’t bring them into the house but once a year. Eat the whole frickin’ bag in a day or so. I just chalk it up to feeding a momentary need and then back on track. The mechanics of it all come into play in juggling them there momentary needs, having the ability to spread them out as opposed to letting them all hit at once.

For example, McDonald’s cheeseburger and fries craving, usually hits two or three times a year (worked there in high school); Hagen Dazs or Ben & Jerry’s about the same (flavors fluctuate) and homemade, fried tacos like my mother, the Midwestern, white woman used to make comes around once every year or two.

Lord, if I allowed all of them entre’ into my diet at the same time, I’d be comatose!

Balance.

It’s all about balancing it out and not feeling guilty for having eaten something “bad” when I do choose to go for the gusto. It’s really nothing more than providing myself with just a few of life’s pleasures.

I’m currently Frito-less. It’s been almost 24 hours, and I’m doing okay - no shakes or anything so I’m thinkin’ I’ll be good for at least the next couple of months. I may even call of the sniper…maybe.