A smiling Indian man is gesturing to a row of foil squares. I can see where one piece of the foil keeps getting folded back and forth to expose the contents as its created a permanent crease.
"Spicy or mild?"
Pacem stands next to me, one hand above his eyes blocking the sun, "Spicy."
***
"Mild," Tie-dye says two years ago, almost to the day.
For a person who moves around a lot a familiar haunt is an odd place.
"Can't believe this place is so good."
For a person who moves around a lot a familiar haunt is an odd place.
"Can't believe this place is so good."
***
"American,"
It might as well be my name I guess in Hong Kong.
"American, buy."
An excited man is pointing to a box of strawberries. At first I think they are some bizarre albino form but around the edges I can see the beginnings of them turning pink.
"America!"
"Uhhh..."
"...no like?"
"These...are not...they aren't ripe."
"Ripe?"
"Good."
Wrong thing to say. The man's face scrunches up and now he's shouting, "NOT GOOD? I SELL GOOD!"
Seemed like a good time to leave.
Over the next few weeks it became increasingly apparent that strawberries were in fact just the thing to be selling to your local Gweilo. All of them were the same pasty white mess. I even broke down and bought a small container to see if I was just being biased against some local variant. They were nasty. It wasn't until a few days later I caught sight of an advertisement in an ice cream shop. The banner ran from end to end of the shop stall top, featuring a bright pick background and another pair of albino strawberries.
This was ideal?
It might as well be my name I guess in Hong Kong.
"American, buy."
An excited man is pointing to a box of strawberries. At first I think they are some bizarre albino form but around the edges I can see the beginnings of them turning pink.
"America!"
"Uhhh..."
"...no like?"
"These...are not...they aren't ripe."
"Ripe?"
"Good."
Wrong thing to say. The man's face scrunches up and now he's shouting, "NOT GOOD? I SELL GOOD!"
Seemed like a good time to leave.
Over the next few weeks it became increasingly apparent that strawberries were in fact just the thing to be selling to your local Gweilo. All of them were the same pasty white mess. I even broke down and bought a small container to see if I was just being biased against some local variant. They were nasty. It wasn't until a few days later I caught sight of an advertisement in an ice cream shop. The banner ran from end to end of the shop stall top, featuring a bright pick background and another pair of albino strawberries.
This was ideal?
***
Yellow.
I'm sitting next to Ginger facing a nine inch pie dish that's heaped over with scrambled eggs. Both of our eyes are fixed on the dish.
My uncle smiles, "You don't see them like that in your grocery store do you?"
The three roadtrippers looked at each other somewhat nervously. Obviously there was something wrong with my uncle's chickens, but nobody wanted to really say anything.
They were probably the best scrambled eggs I have ever eaten.
I'm sitting next to Ginger facing a nine inch pie dish that's heaped over with scrambled eggs. Both of our eyes are fixed on the dish.
My uncle smiles, "You don't see them like that in your grocery store do you?"
The three roadtrippers looked at each other somewhat nervously. Obviously there was something wrong with my uncle's chickens, but nobody wanted to really say anything.
They were probably the best scrambled eggs I have ever eaten.
***
Gummy bears, Tillamook cheese sandwich on rye, and a Kiwi Strawberry Snapple. Same lunch as the day before, and the day before. Costco bulk made high school lunches simple.
***
Something was up with the soda fountain in the Subway in the Newark Liberty International Airport. The same thing was up with the bottle I bought in the cafeteria, and the Starbursts I found on my dresser. I cracked open a Snapple and it tasted so nasty I was unable to finish it. In high school I had considered drinking one of these the day nearly the hilight of my meal.
"High Fructose Corn Syrup," he said.
"It...tastes so fake..."
I'd spent a good portion of my time in Hong Kong eagerly awaiting the day I would return to my preservatives and partially hydroginated veggitable oil, only to find out I'd been away long enough that nothing back here seemed quite right either.
"High Fructose Corn Syrup," he said.
"It...tastes so fake..."
I'd spent a good portion of my time in Hong Kong eagerly awaiting the day I would return to my preservatives and partially hydroginated veggitable oil, only to find out I'd been away long enough that nothing back here seemed quite right either.
***
I find it so odd that our society is slowly becoming conscious about what we eat but it doesn't seem to be that anybody has any idea of what food actually even tastes like anymore.
Posts
