There is a brilliant sequence in the movie Ice Age 2 where a flock of vultures bursts into a song titled "Food, Glorious Food!" I now identify keenly with those critters- food has been much of what occupies my brain these days. What brought this on? In all my long life I've never been accused of being much of a foodie. Well, it just goes to show that it's not food, per se- it is familiar food.
And in this land of food and drink, it is a strange situation to be in. I have taken, in wild desperation, to dousing even boiled eggs in hot sauce. Once, at a sandwich place advertising their 'fire-hot' sauce for sandwich toppings, I of course, wanted one such. The server insisted, nay, browbeat us into first tasting the sauce so that we could truly know its fearsome heat. I took a taste on the little plastic spoon and was satisfied. OK, it was hot. The teenaged server's eyes widened in admiration. And J deadpanned, "she has an iron tongue."
Sigh. To all those who say, why can't you just cook Indian food, you twit: I do, not infrequently at that. But what drives me mad is the absence of little joints where you can smell curry leaf and garam masala and tandoor flavors. The food markets where you buy whacking big bunches of fresh, aromatic coriander, and mango pickles. Or the guy on the corner who roasts a bhutta and brushes it with mint chutney and a salted lime wedge with such perfection, it is the high point of your day.
I cannot walk into a Mexican restaurant and ask to have my dosa with extra butter, now can I.
P.S. I have not even mentioned the Indian restaurant that served fish curry topped with - I kid you not - fresh strawberries. Yes. It was a sad day indeed.