I realize it’s the height of narcissistic blog behavior to post about a dream you had, so I’ll make this a best-of, and I’ll keep them short.

I don’t remember my dreams very often, and when I do, they’re usually scary or dull. Every once in a while, though, I’ll wake up giggling and annoy Laurie because I’ve had a dream that seemed very serious at the time but was actually comic gold. Here are four of those, all at least vaguely food-related. I promise two things: (a) these are all actual, unembellished dreams, and (b) I won’t share any more dreams until I have several more of this quality, which should be around 2026.

* This afternoon, still trying to throw off my cold, I took a big nap and had a dream in which I was working as a consultant to the military of some Latin American country. I advised my men that if they wanted to be taken seriously as an army, they had to go around and fight the armies of neighboring countries. But that was too expensive, so instead we would go to the supermarket and fight people in the various sections of the market devoted to the foods of neighboring countries. We went to the supermarket and found a guy picking grapes. “GET HIM!” I shouted to my army guys. “That’s just a guy picking grapes,” said one guy. “But we’re in the Argentina section,” I said. “The army of Argentina is basically a guy picking grapes anyway. NOW GET HIM!” So my army guys started halfheartedly throwing punches at this supermarket employee.

* I was given an assignment by my editor to interview Noam Chomsky. “We know all about Noam Chomsky the linguist and the political writer,” she said. “But we never hear about Noam Chomsky the food writer.” So I met with Chomsky, and he said, “I wrote a rap about cheese. Do you want to hear it?” Absolutely, I said. Chomsky rapped, “I’m better than cheddar / I’m ruder than Gouda / I got more cheeses than a cheese computer.”

* I had entered myself in an MTV amateur rap competition, which was being held in a mobile home. As it got closer to my number, I was getting more and more nervous, because I hadn’t prepared anything and my rapping skills were subpar. Finally I was up, and I burst out onto the stage and dropped the following rhyme: “Them other guys be buggin’ / Girls come from far and wide to bring me muffins.”

* I was in a musical set in a McDonald’s in Nazi Germany. The title of the musical was _I’m Eating My McNuggets in the Land of McBigots_.