I ate In-N-Out Burger for lunch in honor of my Gramps, who would have been 88 today. (This is a particular sacrifice for me because I don't like In-N-Out. Never have. This fact, along with my distaste for avocados, make people wonder if I really can be considered a California girl.) Anyway, after Gramps' stroke, when my dislike for the restaurant was a giggle for him, whenever we drove by one, he would say, "I love In-N-Out." And then he'd look at me and smile, and say, "But you don't like it." I'd say no, I don't, and he'd laugh out loud. I don't remember how he liked his burger, though I did take him there a couple times. And I imagine he always got a vanilla shake -- because he didn't like chocolate (weird Irishman).I don't drive by an In-N-Out without playing that conversation in my head, and it makes me smile. I could think of no better homage to the man then to eat a hamburger that I don't really like and buy some french fries that taste ickier than I remember. But make no mistake, there was NO WAY I was going to buy a vanilla shake. I got a Coke instead.
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