A few months back Lou asked if I wanted a package of dehydrated hash browns. I hadn’t known there was such a thing. So yeah.
Just soak them a few minutes, blot them dry, then fry ‘em up, add salt and pepper and whatever else. Really good.
So I bought some more, and enjoyed them, too.
But when I went to replenish my supply, there were none available. Not in Walmart, Albertson’s or Food Basket. And none the next week. Or the next week. Or the next week. Or the next week. Or the next week. Or the next week. Or the next week. Rats.
I tried making some from scratch. They were a disaster.
I looked for them online. I could get them by the case. Nah. Or as a grossly overpriced two-pack. Double nah.
I thought maybe they just weren’t popular enough in the greater Silver City market for the stores to stock them. So I continued my quest when I hit the road. I didn’t find them in Tucson, Buckeye, Blythe or Indio. I didn’t find them at two Fry’s in Yuma or in two of the three-and-a-half Walmarts. Maybe they had stopped making them.
But then today, when I wasn’t really looking for them, because I didn’t think I’d ever see them again, there they were, in the third Yuma Walmart. (Sort of like those stories of finding love when you stop chasing after it.) I grabbed enough to hold me for a while. (Dehydrated hash browns, not love.)