My dream took me to a small town in southern Washington to visit family. The little cafe I chose to get breakfast had rows of peanut butter and jelly jars in the pastry case to the right of the cashier, accompanied by a hand-lettered sign listing eight exotic-sounding breads. The deli case on the left had more promising options including the "Archbishop", a poached egg and bacon on an english muffin.
The cashier who rang me up joined me at a table to make my Archbishop. She narrated the ingredients and procedure tour guide style in an unending stream that I could only half-hear, randomly employing italian for simple english words. A firm clear gelatin puck she referred to as indivisi (for "uncut", she explained) was placed on the plate. She unwrapped a lettuce leaf to reveal the fancy version of Egg McMuffin and laid that on top. Next to that, at an angle, she placed a deep fried chicken leg inside a hoagie roll, and then wrapped the entire construction inside a tortilla.
Perhaps I should not go to bed hungry.
