A few years ago, some out of town relatives were visiting California and stopped in for a little party at my grandma’s house. I found out later that the real reason for the party was because Grandma wanted to set me up with a distant cousin and make an honest woman outta me. But that’s a whole ‘nother blog post.
I did not get a husband at that particular family reunion, but I left that day with a dream.
The said relatives had been to the Madonna Inn and raved about the Monte Cristo sandwich. The entire sandwich was deep fried! My skinny little nineteen year old heart just died thinking about that sandwich. A couple years later, when Eric asked where we should go on our honeymoon, I was quick to suggest the Madonna Inn. We went to Jamaica instead. It was fun, but no sandwich.
Over the years, every holiday that came up, I tried to talk Eric into driving me six hours to get that sandwich. Finally, a few months ago, I had a breakthrough. He wanted to take me to Solvang for our anniversary, and to go visit the Hearst Castle while we were there.
As soon as he said Hearst, my eyes lit up. The cousins had also been talking about Hearst Castle that day and for some reason the two were forever linked in my brain. “Can we go to the Madonna Inn?”
We looked it up and it was right on the way.
My mouth started to water. And kept watering for three months.
We talked about our upcoming trip for weeks and I told anyone that would listen about my sandwich. The week before we left, my sis-in-law told me that Disneyland had them too. All this time, I’d been an hour away and didn’t even know it.
When I finally got there, and the sandwich arrived, I spent five minutes photographing it first. The waitress thought I was crazy. Then I texted a photo to my daughters, sis-in-law, and mom saying “I have nothing left to accomplish in life now.”
Mmmmn. Yes, that is powdered sugar. Sounds so wrong, but tastes oh-so-right. Even weirder is the fact that they serve it with jam. Believe it or not, it’s delicious.
We took half of mine back to the hotel to eat for dinner, but four hours later, I was still full.
It’s rare that a woman reaches her dreams at the age of 32, isn’t it? I mean what do I have left to shoot for?
Another sandwich maybe.