A clever forgery

I can't eat a lot of dairy products.

A bowl of ice cream produces in my stomach a sensation that might be rivaled by a mouthful of angry bees. Milk and ice cream used to be the main offenders, but as I've grown older, even cottage cheese (which I love) will make me very uncomfortable. And even yogurt.

The yogurt thing is a real tragedy, as my son-in-law introduced me to the incredible taste of chopped cucumber and onion in Greek yogurt as a sauce for slivered lamb on flatbread (gyros) and on kufta, a kind of meatball made from either beef or lamb. Sheer bliss in taste, agony for my innards for days afterwards.

At the store the other day, I was smitten with desire and bought a package of ground lamb, thinking that kufta without yogurt was better than no kufta at all. However, as I began frying the cute little kufta patties, my subconscious kicked out an idea for fake, non-dairy sauce in which to dice cucumbers.

To my chopped half-cucumber, I added a tablespoon of ranch salad dressing, a teaspoon of sour cream, and about two teaspoons of mayonnaise. I used onion powder to season because I was too lazy to chop onion, along with some garlic powder. To imitate the distinctive tang of Greek yogurt, I added about 5 drops of vinegar.

Side by side, I know I could tell the difference between the real and the faux. However, without the authentic on the table, Bernie could not discern a difference, and had I not known my recipe, I wouldn't have been able to put my finger on the difference either. Hee, hee. Gyros, here I come. Well, once this heat wave is over, anyway. Making flatbread on hot days isn't much fun.

When I was a little child, I always thought being forgery would make a great career. I've achieved another life-long goal.