A Broth Story
Sarah writes: Recently, I found myself feeling a bit under the weather, so I decided to indulge in a comforting mug of hot chicken broth. My boyfriend, however, raised an eyebrow at this choice. He quipped, “You can’t just waltz into a place known for drinks and ask, ‘Can I get a chicken broth?’ — because let’s face it, broth isn’t exactly considered a drink-drink.” This coming from a guy who thinks putting yogurt on his breakfast burritos is perfectly normal!
I often enjoy sipping broth myself — it’s become a sort of ritual for me, and I jokingly refer to myself as “Often Brothin’.” Not too long ago, I could stroll down Lafayette Street and confidently request, “Can I get a chicken broth?” The friendly staff would happily hand it over through a little window that opened right onto the street. Unfortunately, that window has since closed, which might suggest that the once trendy bone-broth craze has now become a bit outdated. But I assure you, it’s still a very real phenomenon, and I can’t help but worry that my boyfriend has been living under a rock for the past decade.
At the end of the day, I believe partners shouldn’t judge each other’s snack choices — even if his obsession with yogurt on burritos is a bit questionable. PS: Just to clarify, no one actually calls me “Often Brothin’.” That’s merely a whimsical nickname I dream of being called, a classic wish from the one and only Good Ole Wishin’ Judge John!