Taste and memory, take three
I don’t normally eat at Hardee’s, but it was a favorite stop as a kid, and I was taken back to childhood after stopping for a biscuit last week.
My Dad drove me to school most every morning of my young life, at least until I could drive myself. He worked nearby, at the administrative offices, so it was a natural fit. I was always pushing the clock every morning. I can remember him announcing the time every few minutes, and thinking to myself, “I have a clock. I know.” On the mornings I didn’t push his patience, we would stop at Hardee’s and get breakfast.
I remember the lights on the tile floor, the air conditioning, and the reds & oranges of the old Hardee’s decor. It was early morning and I wasn’t comfortable until I sat down with my Cinnamon ‘N’ Raisin Biscuit. It was usually too hot, so I drank my orange juice for a while, the acidic feeling on my stomach making me appreciate what I was about to eat. The biscuit, once cool enough–you know, when the icing is somewhat solidified on top, but still gooey right below that thin shell–was a real treat. I sat at the table with my Dad, eating breakfast in a hurry as though I was heading to the office with him to solve the day’s problems.
The time was short, always, but we did it enough to make it a favorite childhood memory of mine. That memory was locked away until a few days ago. (I quit going to Hardee’s when their burger commercials started implying that men had to have an IQ below 70 and think about sex all day to eat there. But their biscuits are hard to beat, and I have a strong association between Hardee’s biscuits and childhood.) I noticed that the CNR’s were back, so I gave them a try. The taste was exactly the same as twenty years ago. Sitting at my desk in my office, I could see the lights and tile and decor in my mind, and almost feel the orange juice on an empty stomach.
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