It’s days like today, when my wife puts a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on my plate, that I long for being back on location of the oil rigs, with my favourite catering truck serving me hot, delicious food. After being spoiled for four months with some of the best food I have ever tasted, I miss my cooks. I almost think that the oil companies have employed sous chefs that belong in five-star restaurants, the consistent amazing quality of the food being offered just seems so out of place in the middle of an oil rig. I know that they make more than I do as a lowly rustabout, but based on what they’re serving me, it’s worth paying these catering people more than three roustabouts combined. If I hadn’t been working so hard on the rigs, I imagine I would have been fat by now. And it would be from gorging at the catering truck. I tried to get some recipes of my favourite meals to take home for my wife, just so I wouldn’t miss the rig food so much. The head cook kindly gave me one recipe. The wife can’t make it right. At least, she can’t make it like they can at the rig. I can’t wait to go back!

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