8 November 2007
The lunch was “meat,” my colleague whispered to me. “Maybe I can go to the market and get something for you?”
“I’ll come,” I said, and slung my purse over my shoulder.
He first suggested a cake – a packaged sweet bread (think Hostess but, well, different, in the sense of less tasty and more preservative-filled, if that’s even possible). I was really not into the cake-for-lunch idea unless it was a pretty great cake, preferably homemade, largely because one very very unfortunately side effect of the amoeba I am still carting around is that it makes sweet things taste less good than they once did. Oh, for the taste buds of my 15-year-old self that could eat Nacho Cheesier Doritos and Mountain Dew for breakfast. So good. It’s very annoying to crave junk food, eat it, and then not actually LIKE it while you are eating it. You would think it would make me stop eating it and I’d become a health nut or something, but no. Because I keep craving, I keep eating. I just don’t enjoy it. Actually, I crave MORE because I don’t feel satisfied because I just ate chocolate but I! Didn’t! Enjoy! It! (How is that even possible?)
I countered with a suggestion of lentils, if possible. We ducked into a little, dim restaurant. It was made of reeds, of course, with a tarpaulin for a roof.
It was my first real restaurant experience in
My bread had sand in it, but that’s not so intolerable. The foul had little bits of purple onions on top, along with finely grated white cheese. It needed a lot of salt. We sat in the dim, scooping sauce on our bread. I was the only woman in the building.
We washed the meal down with Royal Grenadine soda. It looks like this:
What is a grenadine, anyway? Because that looks a lot like a pomegranate to me (maybe? or no discernible fruit?), but the ingredients include “grenadine flavor” and “raspberry flavor” and it tastes a lot like a slightly more palatable version of red pop. My other colleague, to whom I gave a capful of the stuff when we got back to the meeting (I have a cold – sharing not a good idea), said it tasted like communion wine.
* Fava bean note: why was I required to be tested for some disease characterized by a severe fava bean allergy before I came to