…More Than Sweet Potatoes

The Evolution of Drunk Food

Sunday morning I woke up to a weird smell that I’d call a mix of burnt potato chips, campfire, and fresh cut grass.  I rubbed my eyes and rolled over to fall SMACK onto the floor.  It took a minute for me to realize that I had fallen asleep on the couch watching DVR.  It took me another few minutes of deciphering the smell before I realized…

…I had fallen asleep while making soup

This is almost exactly how I slept for 8 hours.  Comfortable looking, right??

This is almost exactly how I slept for 8 hours. Comfortable looking, right??

After running to the kitchen to turn off the stove and move the pot of black charcoal looking used-to-be-soup fixings, I cursed myself and thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t burn the place to the ground.  I did the math to figure out that I had slept through the kitchen timer AND the smell for 8 hours.  I had slept in my jeans and t-shirt, sitting up on the couch, for 8 hours.

Yes, this does, very much so, sound like the end to a drunken night out.  No, that was not the case.  I had chaperoned a bunch of teens at their formal dance and got home at 11:30 and was hungry, so I tried to make soup.  Obviously I failed.

I feel pretty... oh so pretty...

I feel pretty… oh so pretty…

Thing to know: this is not a particularly new thing for me.  I have a tendency to fall asleep while prepping or cooking food.  And, with the exception of Saturday night, it only happens when I’m drunk.

In the past I have made tuna casserole at 2am – much to the chagrin and future taunting by my roommate – that I forgot to put in the fridge after eating a small amount.  The smell wafting through the apartment when we woke up later was deafening.  I don’t know how a smell can be deafening, but that’s how horrible it was.

I’ve tried making pizza (who hasn’t) after a night out and left it in the oven overnight.  Luckily, the place I lived at the time had a timer on the oven and when the timer went off, so did the oven.

In college, my drunk food was almost ALWAYS mac and cheese or nutella spread on a tortilla and rolled into a little roll of deliciousness.  My roommate had a hot dog drunk food obsession.  I’ve also obsessed over sour cream and onion potato chips while drunk… to the point of having a conversation with a stranger about why that is the most perfect chip flavor.

Genius idea...

Genius idea…

Once I realized I had a problem with “cooking” while drunk and that I was putting myself, my dog, and my apartment building in danger, I made the smartest drunk decision of my life:

I purchased a TON of microwaveable chef boyardee meals and put them on a shelf that I called the “drunk food” shelf.

I had solved my problem, right?!

WRONG… kind of.

I had solved one problem: no more possibly burning down the apartment.  I had found a new problem: I was now passing out in the 2 minutes it took to cook said microwaveable food.

Real Talk: the 2 minutes it takes to cook a small thing of Beefaroni is long enough for me to pass out on top of my bed, fully clothed (shoes included), a drawstring backpack on my back still, my head at the foot of the bed, my phone under my face and with a spoon in my hand.  2 minutes.  I’m a pass out NINJA.

Maybe eating these cold would work better...

Maybe eating these cold would work better…

I thought I had solved the issue by curbing the drinking…

That is, until this Sunday morning when I woke up to crispy soup.

END.

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4 comments on “The Evolution of Drunk Food

  1. r/b
    April 14, 2014

    I sort of love you now. One time I uh, “fell asleep” while playing W.o.W….with a burrito in my hand, head down on the keyboard…woke up hours later and I was like: “O look! A burrito!” WIN. (and yes, a smell can be deafening…it’s the only way to describe it.)

    Like

    • Deborah Ilene
      April 21, 2014

      If I woke up with a burrito in hand I would probably believe in mythology and lore and whatever else made a delicious meal appear in my hand.

      Like

  2. maurnas
    April 16, 2014

    The deafening smell thing is relatable. Rotten potatoes. They manage to smell worse than even tuna.

    Like

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This entry was posted on April 14, 2014 by in Drinking, Drinking Games, drinks, food, food porn, learning about me and tagged , , , , .
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