meditations on baloney

before there was schnitzel, there was baloney.
 lunch dates with mum were a baloney sandwich and matzoh ball soup at the deli, my go-to lunchable was the baloney one, and i even once dressed up in a pig costume, put my stuffed cow on a leash, and sang the wiener song in front of the wiener mobile to audition for the oscar meyer commercial. 
it's true: baloney wins hard. it is the teddy bear of comfort food. 
the thing is, it's kind of embarrassing because when somebody makes fun of you for eating all of those animal byproducts ground up and then formed into a perfect cylinder, 
you have no defense because they're absolutely right. 
well, i guess the only defense is YEAH, BUT IT TASTES AWESOME. 
and also,
is anyone else uncomfortable spelling out b-o-l-o-g-n-a and pronouncing "baloney?"
it's like nails on a chalkboard to me. (no offense, bologna-eaters, you are still one of us). 
oh baloney, you have such a hard life.
anyways, on schedule with no-shame november, i stumbled across seersucker in carroll gardens
which has a fried baloney sandwich ON THEIR ADULT MENU.
like, just chillen there, as if it belonged there. 
it was such an emotional experience, seeing my childhood on the little menu hanging in the window.
i wiped my tears, went in, and ordered me one baloney sandwich please and ate it and there was dijon mustards on it! and it was on an english muffin and it was greasy and soft and salty and baloney-y and... oh i'm choking up.
baloney, i love you. you are amazing and beautiful in your own way.
don't worry about organic free-range sustainable vegan chickens taking over the world,
 it is only a matter of time before everyone else realizes that they need not be embarrassed anymore. 
baloney-loving is something to be proud of...right? who is with me? anyone?