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Sep. 29th, 2007 09:15 pmOkay, this post is going to be about food. Foodfoodfoodfood!
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Exotic food, which have become everyday fare.
When I was about 7 years old, a class mate, Anders, had this weird looking bread in his lunch box. It was called "pita" and his mom had told him it came from Italy*. Ooooh how I longed to taste it, a hollow bread. How cool was that? Of course Anders wasn't sharing, but he had to eat his lunch while stared at by 15 dubious and envious village/farm kids, who were stuck with their liver-paste on rye bread lunches.
About two years later, we visited my father's wealthy friend, Flemming, in Northern Jutland. Flemming took us to the supermarket where there was a fruit I'd never seen before. A kiwi! Although it was 10 kr. for one, Flemming bought me one to taste. Imagine my glee when this rather dull brown fruit was cut open to reveal stunning green flesh with a black seed pattern. It was horribly unripe, though, and since no-one could tell me it wasn't supposed to be that hard an inedible, I wasn't terribly impressed with the fruit's food value, but I *did* brag to all my friends about it the following weekend.
*My Greek husband is horrified about anyone ever believing pita breads are Italian.
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Yesterday:
Mom: You don't like soup.
May: What do you mean I don't like soup?
Mom: You only like Tom Yam soup.
May: That's not true, I like soup, I often make vegetable soups at home.
Mom: Well, you don't like yellow-pea soup or kale soup.
...honestly, who likes yellow-pea or kale soup? And can these even be used for a criteria of liking soup or not????
----------------------------------------------
Exotic food, which have become everyday fare.
When I was about 7 years old, a class mate, Anders, had this weird looking bread in his lunch box. It was called "pita" and his mom had told him it came from Italy*. Ooooh how I longed to taste it, a hollow bread. How cool was that? Of course Anders wasn't sharing, but he had to eat his lunch while stared at by 15 dubious and envious village/farm kids, who were stuck with their liver-paste on rye bread lunches.
About two years later, we visited my father's wealthy friend, Flemming, in Northern Jutland. Flemming took us to the supermarket where there was a fruit I'd never seen before. A kiwi! Although it was 10 kr. for one, Flemming bought me one to taste. Imagine my glee when this rather dull brown fruit was cut open to reveal stunning green flesh with a black seed pattern. It was horribly unripe, though, and since no-one could tell me it wasn't supposed to be that hard an inedible, I wasn't terribly impressed with the fruit's food value, but I *did* brag to all my friends about it the following weekend.
*My Greek husband is horrified about anyone ever believing pita breads are Italian.
-------------------------------------------------
Yesterday:
Mom: You don't like soup.
May: What do you mean I don't like soup?
Mom: You only like Tom Yam soup.
May: That's not true, I like soup, I often make vegetable soups at home.
Mom: Well, you don't like yellow-pea soup or kale soup.
...honestly, who likes yellow-pea or kale soup? And can these even be used for a criteria of liking soup or not????
