From time to time someone is bound to ask what my favorite meal is. In the past I might rave about my mother's pasta sauce or her standing rib roast. I might salivate while telling someone about Tess' honey garlic ribs. I might mention my maternal grandmother's cornbread and creamed tomatoes or my paternal grandmother's mackerel dinners.
These days the answer is much simpler. What is my favorite meal? Any one I don't have to cook myself.