PLENTY OF FISH IN THE SEA
It was one of those dreary rainy mornings in San Diego, rainy and cold, with gusts of wind making sure the rain penetrated right through clothes. I hate rain in the mornings, especially if I have to go to work. Now, to be fair, it can rain as much as it likes as long as I am tucked under a nice warm quilt, a cup of hot tea in hand, reading a good book. I love to watch the rain pitter patter down windowpanes or drum on roofs but to have to trudge to work in this kind of weather, now that totally puts me off.
In order to fortify myself against the day ahead, I decided to eat a good American breakfast. Err, now let me modify that. A good American breakfast for people with very little time on their hands and a modicum of respect for their stomachs. So cornflakes it had to be. I was forced to eat “Honeybunches” since our pantry is filled to overflowing with the stuff. D, in a misguided move to impress upon his wife that her every wish was his command, had gone down to Vons and come back with a whole crate of the stuff.
Breakfast done, it was time to think of lunch. 11:30 am and a bunch of like-minded foodies decided to go out for a Japanese lunch. Now let me get this straight. I love fish, specially the fried variety, how could I not? It is an integral part of being a mallu. But raw fish? Now that is enough to make even the bravest soul cringe. So I spent the next hour trying to find something at least half-cooked if not completely cooked. I settled for dumplings with different fillings, a miso soup and a salad.
That was when my lunch companions decided that I had to be properly introduced to true Japanese cuisine. They begged me to try the California rolls. It boggles the mind why a Japanese dish should be called that. It consists of a roll with small pieces of fish (please god, let it have been cooked) surrounded by rice and various other condiments all wrapped in a thin sheet of I have no idea what. (Was it sea weed of some kind?). It was then cut into bite-sized chunks. I was informed that the true-blue sushi eaters do not consider the California rolls sushi, but that it was perfect for a novice like me making a brave foray into the world of sushi eaters. Suffice to say that I dipped it into every sauce that was on the table and put it into my mouth and swallowed. That was my first experience with sushi, and since I am still alive to write this, it doesn’t seem to have done me any harm.
Cold rainy evening and what could be better than a hot cup of coffee? Off we went, to a Vietnamese restaurant, to sample some of their wares. I had heard lots of people wax eloquent over Vietnamese coffee and wanted to try it to see if it was as good as it was made out to be. My enthusiasm levels were high since I knew for sure that it was not likely to contain anything raw, except of course, if the Vietnamese got it into their heads to make their coffee with raw milk. The coffee was strong and sweet, with condensed milk, and served in little individual filters rather like the typical south Indian filter coffee.
Come to think of it, my day, in spite of the rain, was pretty international, so I guess rainy days have their good points too.
In order to fortify myself against the day ahead, I decided to eat a good American breakfast. Err, now let me modify that. A good American breakfast for people with very little time on their hands and a modicum of respect for their stomachs. So cornflakes it had to be. I was forced to eat “Honeybunches” since our pantry is filled to overflowing with the stuff. D, in a misguided move to impress upon his wife that her every wish was his command, had gone down to Vons and come back with a whole crate of the stuff.
Breakfast done, it was time to think of lunch. 11:30 am and a bunch of like-minded foodies decided to go out for a Japanese lunch. Now let me get this straight. I love fish, specially the fried variety, how could I not? It is an integral part of being a mallu. But raw fish? Now that is enough to make even the bravest soul cringe. So I spent the next hour trying to find something at least half-cooked if not completely cooked. I settled for dumplings with different fillings, a miso soup and a salad.
That was when my lunch companions decided that I had to be properly introduced to true Japanese cuisine. They begged me to try the California rolls. It boggles the mind why a Japanese dish should be called that. It consists of a roll with small pieces of fish (please god, let it have been cooked) surrounded by rice and various other condiments all wrapped in a thin sheet of I have no idea what. (Was it sea weed of some kind?). It was then cut into bite-sized chunks. I was informed that the true-blue sushi eaters do not consider the California rolls sushi, but that it was perfect for a novice like me making a brave foray into the world of sushi eaters. Suffice to say that I dipped it into every sauce that was on the table and put it into my mouth and swallowed. That was my first experience with sushi, and since I am still alive to write this, it doesn’t seem to have done me any harm.
Cold rainy evening and what could be better than a hot cup of coffee? Off we went, to a Vietnamese restaurant, to sample some of their wares. I had heard lots of people wax eloquent over Vietnamese coffee and wanted to try it to see if it was as good as it was made out to be. My enthusiasm levels were high since I knew for sure that it was not likely to contain anything raw, except of course, if the Vietnamese got it into their heads to make their coffee with raw milk. The coffee was strong and sweet, with condensed milk, and served in little individual filters rather like the typical south Indian filter coffee.
Come to think of it, my day, in spite of the rain, was pretty international, so I guess rainy days have their good points too.
posted by newatthis at 4:30 PM
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