Boy Dinner
Cody
I was called upon by the powers that be at JTTB Blog to dust off the ole ink and quill to jot down my much-needed thoughts on Boy Dinner. As a card-carrying member of the fellas association, I think I can speak for all of us when I say while boy dinner is different to all it’s largely the same: the meal that feeds the Sigma grindset, the shit post factory, and, most importantly, the Player Hater’s Ball. Boy Dinner to a midwest man like myself consists of Ready Meats beef jerky, Dots Honey Mustard pretzels, and eight ice-cold Hamm’s sandwiches (a spear in each of these beers of course). That’s arguably the bare minimum it takes to fuel a relentless blogging machine here at JTTB Blog. I only hope that you can use me as an example and a leader to teach young men for years to come.
Norm
On most nights, my Boy Dinner of choice is a couple handfuls of trail mix. When it comes to Boy Dinners, it's arguable that this is the most well-balanced. Protein, dried fruit, and chocolate, it has it all. As for my preferred brand, I’m partial to the Monster variety of Target’s in-house label, Favorite Day. What sets Monster apart from others is the addition of both chocolate and peanut butter chips, adding extra flavor and goodness to every bite. When I’m in the mood for something different, I grab a couple Mini Babybel cheeses from the fridge. Pair either meal with a High Life or sparkling water (from the Sodastream I just bought on sale), and you’re in Boy Dinner paradise.
Devin
When I get home at 8PM on a Tuesday from my men’s league softball game after going 3 for 4 with 2 moonshots and a triple, the last thing I want to do is make a meal. An athletic machine like myself needs fuel though, so what do I do? I snag a bag of Xochitl Blue Corn Chips, some shredded cheddar, and a block of Parmigiano Reggiano, combine them on a plate, and toss it in the microwave for 47 seconds. My body is a temple, so despite making a ‘Boy Dinner,’ I refuse to skimp out and use Tostitos or pre-shredded ‘Parmesan.’ If I happen to have some ground beef or pulled pork in the fridge, I may throw a little protein in there, but it’s entirely optional. I top it all off with Frontera Double Roasted salsa and Tapatio, enjoyed with an ice-cold Hamm’s while watching my highlight reel from last year's softball season. Microwave nachos hit different when you don’t got a bitch in your ear telling you they’re “not a real meal.”
Conor
I never want to miss out on gains by indulging in a Boy Dinner. That's why I find myself downing a protein shake along with a couple slices of peanut butter toast, as needed. Just toss a couple slices of bread in the toaster and make sure to put whole milk in your shake for bonus calories, protein, nutrients, and flavor. Might as well dump some creatine in there too to replace all that red meat you'd usually be eating.
Jack
If I’m lucky, my breadwinner girlfriend leaves leftovers from her free work lunch for me to nibble on, a chicken parm sandwich here, roast potatoes there — you get the point. If I’m unlucky, I’ll indulge in a light sandwich — baguette (stale), I’m not partial to any bakery in particular, oven-roasted turkey breast, and Whole Foods smoked mozzarella (funny enough, they look just like an apple when slipped into a green produce bag). To keep my blood sugar up, I’ll usually slice an apple, which is often too much caloric intake for my girlish figure and I’ll have to force-feed myself the final slices between gulps of room temperature tap water (cold water is for pussies). To drown the sour memory, I like to finish off with an overly strong caipirinha with additional lukewarm water or cachaça to top off the dregs, depending on my mood.
Jesse (Innit)
Now, I’d like to preface this paragraph or two by mentioning it has been years since I have partaken in the luxury of a Boy Dinner. What the fuck is a Boy Dinner? I now snort pre-workout just to feel something. This is mainly due to the fact that I have been living in the Canadian wilderness, and, unless I fancy a midnight bowl of cereal, an apple, or a fistfight with a moose, the beige buffet-style meals I call a balanced diet serve me well enough.
Anyway. I’m from England (don’t hold it against me); so, naturally, I live off fish and chips and beans and toast. Another Northern English delicacy rarely touched on is Spam and eggs. I love Spam. Growing up, the meat of 1000 cuts made its way onto my plate frequently. I’m writing this half-assed, half-asleep, yet, fully focused on the delectable, melt-in-your-mouth, salty brine of a good fried puck of spam, polished off with some mustard and sliced bread of your choosing. Like most Boy Dinners it is simply meat in-between two slices of bread. But that is beside the point. To dress it up any further would be akin to putting lipstick on a pig. Or in Spam’s case, mascara on an eldritch beast. What’s in Spam, you might ask? You don’t wanna know.
Conway
I will eat a bagel at any available opportunity. 8AM? Yes. 3PM? Even better. Time is a construct that limits when and where you can consume a bagel. But I will tell you this — God is dead and bagels are alive. At least the yeast is.
Everything bagel. Scallion cream cheese. Lox. Red Onion. It doesn’t get much better than that, I assure you. Next time your girlfriend asks you what you want for dinner say “a bagel.” She’ll lose it. And that’s because she can’t understand. You do though; you’re a guy who knows what he wants, a bagel, for dinner or anytime because you remember that God is dead and you live for yourself. She will never know this freedom.
Miguel
In the depths of gastronomic debauchery, a plate emerges laden with succulent tendies tossed in buffalo sauce from Marilu’s Market. Their crispy exterior calls out like a siren to the tastebuds of ravenous adventurers, or drunken fools. And lo! They are accompanied by a handful of avocado oil chips, smothered in the divine embrace of guac or pico, their combined flavours creating a symphony of hedonistic delights.
But what of the libation, the elixir that fuels the intrepid soul after a day spent conquering slopes or pedaling through treacherous terrains? Fear not, for the Muskoka Springs Pale Ginger Ale stands tall, effervescence mingling with the spirits of bourbon, or tequila, to provide a refreshment that could revive the most jaded explorer. It is the perfect partner in crime for this Boy Dinner, harmonizing with the zesty tang of the tendies and lending an unexpected spark to the avocado oil chips.
In the event that provisions are scarce and the hunger gnaws with merciless intent, I embrace the realm of Dino Eggs oatmeal. In this humble repast, the prehistoric morsels dissolve in a hot brew, transforming into a nourishing sustenance fit for the most primal of appetites. And, as a cup of white tea graces the scene, its gentle warmth and delicate notes offer solace to the famished soul, reminding them that even in the darkest hour, sustenance can be found. Such is the tale of the Boy Dinner, a meal prepared with triumph, craving, and the eternal hunger of the wild at heart.
Stephen
Slugging my way over to the kitchen with no ounce of remorse, I will make 4 peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. But I like variety. So one has more PB than J, one has more J than PB, one just has PB, and the other has just J. I then chase this delicacy down with Wasabi Almonds. Men eat what they want, boys eat what they can.
Matt
The sun has just broken over the horizon, and my wife walks downstairs to the kitchen. She takes in the scene — half a loaf of bread left on the cutting board (now stale). A dirty pan - evidence of a futile attempt to pass off what transpired here as “cooking.” An empty package of grocery store prosciutto, purchased yesterday, peeks out from the overfilled garbage. While no component of what was simply toasted bread and meat should be able to create a stain, the counter is filthy. The fresh-baked goods she had carefully arranged on the kitchen island are in disarray.
She thinks of the man sleeping upstairs. The father of her firstborn child. Although light has begun to stream through the windows, the room feels dark.