No cheese please. No pescado either.

I'm standing in front of 40 bags of freeze dried food. Instead of concentrating on measures of couscous and dried peas, I'm making a mental list of all the things I might have inherited.

There's my Mom's good looks and good grades. There's my Dad's wit and grace on the dancefloor. There's grandma's dear and winning sweetness and my grandfather's bedrock principles and persuasive skills. All of which raises the question: of all things, why was it their digestion I inherited?

Scientific visualization of my diet

Regrettably, my food processing unit has more in common with biodiesel processor than I would care to describe. I have to be very picky about the fuel I carry on my hikes. No Cliff Bars. No Tuna or Turkey-a-la-king. No Shepherd's Potato Stew. Yet more proof that life is monstrously unfair.

My quest for the 2,500-calorie-a-day menu began a couple weeks ago. My first objective: the search for a perfect 200-calorie energy bar. I'll need an energy bar for breakfast, two for the morning snack and two for the afternoon snack. That's 5 per day or about a 20,000 energy-bar calories for a 20-day hike.

My mission took me took me to the Arcadia REI. I examined the ingredients of every energy bar on the shelf. (If you haven't tried this and you happen to rely on progressive lenses, don't forget your lab book, magnifying glass and campstool.) After surviving hours of wary looks from the Green-vest People, I left with a sack full of non-dairy candidates from Hammer, Kind Plus, Nature Valley, Picky, Pro Bar, Chia (not the plant), Pure Quaker, Rise and Two Moms.

It took a week of training hikes and blog lurking to chew through the lot. The result: I've ordered $120 worth of Picky Bars, $60 of Hammer Bars, $40 of Kind Plus Bars. I also rediscovered "The Comet Trail;" the blog written by our goddaughter's friend. She has portrayed a marvelous mountain world like a never-never land, apart for us, occupied by lost souls bound by the common causes of recklessness, discomfort and endurance. Her blog is resentfully addictive, absorbing, repelling and beautifully written. Despite the obvious foolishness, I seem to be drifting to this place where I will never belong. It was for another time in life.

I collect my thoughts and return to the task of assembling my food day. Breakfast is easy: 400 calories of oatmeal and raisins with a dash of the pink stuff. I wanted to include a milk substitute. My first experiment was with "Better-than-milk Vegan Soy." (A suggestion taken from Cheryl Strayed mostly because of the ludicrous name.) One sip was of this vile brew was enough; I'd rather have a glass of the cocktail prescribed for celebrating Colonoscopy Eve. (A holiday typically reserved for the plus 50 crowd.) I then tried powdered coconut and rice milks. Not for me. I searched the web for powdered almond milk. The closest supplier was in New Zealand. There will be no milk substitute on the trail.

Lunches were likewise a shoe in: trail mix, beef jerky and an almond-butter tortilla sandwich. That adds up to another 600 calories.

Adding up breakfast, lunch and snacks, I have now mustered 2,000 monotonous calories for my 2,500 calorie food day. Here comes the hard part: fashioning 500-to-600 calorie, dehydrated dinners that provide a scintilla of variety.

I needed ingredients, so I went to the blogs. Enter the miracles of Harmony House and Pack-IT Gourmet. With less culinary skill than it takes to boil water, I was able to obtain a wide pallette. Beefish bits (not beef or fish), black beans, broccoli, burger warp, cabbage, carrots, celery, chickenish bits (not chicken), corn, freeze dried chicken, freeze dried ground beef, freeze dried sausage, garbanzo beans, green beans, hamish bits (even suitable for a hasidic), jalapeno dices, kidney beans, leek flakes, lentils, navy beans, northern beans, onions, peas, peppers, pinto beans, potato, red beans, roast beef warp (2 serving/pack), spinach flakes, split peas, taco bits, tomato, tomato powder, tortilla soup, and vegetable soup mix. To round out the selection I stopped off at the grocery for bags of fideos, couscous, minute rice, oatmeal, raisins and beef jerky.

So here, I stand, completely buffaloed, unable to to decipher which combination of these dehydrates will amount to something edible.

Suddenly an old metaphor pops up from limbic memory: "...as moonlight unto sunlight is that desert sage to other greens..."¹

Yes! Finally an inspiration. Maybe not for an appetite or a recipe, but for the chance at a recursive pun. How about: "As moonlight unto sunlight so is dehydrated food to real food." That proves it. My literary talent is at parity with my culinary talent.

If I ever do complete a menu, I will post it at this link. Bon appetite!

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1. From one of a Susan Ward's beautiful letters to August Hudson.