CALL IT, THE RAMEN WITH 40 CLOVES OF GARLIC… WAIT. 44 CLOVES.
SOMETIMES, and for the sake of modesty not all the times, but sometimes, after I pasted every photos of a recipe in place and started to stare into space thinking about what I was gonna say… I thought to myself, seriously? You fucking need a reason to eat this?
Uhem, just sometimes.
But well, today, happens to be one of those times.
And by “salad”, I mean it in the most traditional sense of plant-based lifeforms being tossed in vinegar-based dressings. I’ve never understood the idea of it, or the taste of it. It seems that all salads are ever “dressed” with, are the nonstop BS campaign and PR efforts, the pretence of hippie-wholeness and “feel-good” sentiments designed to talk us into laying down our appetites and picking up that cucumber. Excluding vegetarianism which is a whole other subject, the only peace I find in salad, is if we could all just admit to the blunt and clear motives of why anybody eats it.
We only eat salad because we have to. Period.
We eat salad because we don’t want to be fat. We eat salad because we don’t want to die prematurely. We eat salad because what, you think you have a choice? Underneath whatever self-hypnosis, there’s only strictly medical purposes. And I think that if everyone could just quit dancing around it and just say that. People would actually eat more salad, because truth, is the most powerful persuasion.
However, after moving back to Asia, that view is slightly, or at least in the progress of, changing.
What the hell’s going on? Is… is there a forest fire nearby? Nope, I don’t think so! Has a meteor hit China and created tidal waves of dust clouds that’s taking forever to settle? Nope, nope but I wish! But then what the hell in this apocalyptic country is going on that I can’t see beyond five buildings for the past fivesix consecutive days?! I mean seriously, I could duct tape myself naked to the window and I doubt my neighbours would have enough visibility to notice! I could hang a freakin’ brisket outside my apartment and it’d be smoked up like hickory and death! I’d laugh at these photos if I hadn’t realized I live here, too…
Word on the street has it for some time, that Tony has wrapped his last episode of No Reservations, and filming what is said to be his last season of The layover. Roughly 1 month ago, the cold-blooded confirmation came in his blog that he is indeed parting with the shows that have come to be a great part of my culinary adventure for the past 9 years. …Abandonment is what comes to mind. How dare you leave us with our nights to be spent with Sam B. or Andrew Zimmer’s clotted blood… or fermented ball sacks… or whatever.
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