Alright.
I admit it. I'm an anomaly.
No!
Wait. I'm being too harsh on myself. I'm trying to be politically
correct. I'm right and the world is wrong.
These
thoughts crossed my mind last night as I had dinner out with my wife.
It was at a nearby Chinese restaurant. It was her choice. Believe
me it was her choice. My preference is for a steak house, since I
love a nice steak with lots of burnt fat. Or a few similarly
prepared lamb chops. With a nice glass of wine. Perhaps I'd choose
a fancy dessert as well.
But
I'm a good husband. So I had skinless fried chicken cutlets with
peas and carrots. The name was fancier and, from the endless menu,
it sounded tolerable. But it wasn't. Chicken is chicken and peas
and carrots can, run but they can't hide. You can serve “snap
peas” with grated raw carrots, but it's still peas and carrots.
And schnitzel is schnitzel even with
“plum” sauce. Moreover I suspect that the sauce was really a
commercial combination of water, high-fructose corn syrup, artificial
color, and artificial flavor – but I have no beef with
high-fructose corn syrup and artificial stuff, so I'll let that pass.
(Actually I had chicken, not beef, with the combination of water,
high-fructose corn syrup, artificial color, and artificial flavor.)
Fortunately it wasn't organic. (Or, at least, it didn't say so.)
Bottom
line, though, is that I had chicken with peas and carrots. And the
chicken was already sliced for me. People who eat in Chinese
restaurants don't know how to cut food. (And maybe they all have
false teeth.) There were lots of other things on the menu, but
almost all of them were combinations of small pieces of meat and
vegetables in some kind of thick, nondescript, sauce. Page after
page of them. Far more than I cared to read. (There were also Thai
dishes listed, as well as sushi, but all that proves is that the
restaurant was keeping up with the fads. The food itself was no
better.)
And,
of course, there was a bowl of tasteless rice to fill me up, although
there was no lack of food. What the dish lacked in quality it more
than made up for in quantity. A big glass of water accompanied my
meal. Fortunately it was tap water rather than some of the
pretentious and overpriced bottled variety. I suppose I could have
had green tea, but there's a limit to my masochism. I can take just
so much.
As
for dessert, everyone got a couple slices of orange and a commercial
fortune cookie which I was smart enough not to eat. I eschewed the
pop philosophy and my “lucky” numbers. I'm sure it wasn't my
loss.
So
where am I going with this? I'm Jewish and I don't like Chinese
“food.” It ain't food! I don't care if half the world eats it
or something similar (I don't like Japanese or Thai fare either), it
just ain't food. Anything you have to eat with sticks isn't worth
the time. I'd rather pick something up in my hands. (We're Henry
the Eighth, we are.)
I
guess this means that I fail in the test of multiculturalism. I'm
ethnocentric. I've got teeth. I'm a heretic. A pariah. And I
don't want everything mixed together.
But
I don't care. Others, and I don't exclude Jews, can eat what they
want. Even if it isn't food. And I'll dutifully observe the ritual
myself every now and again in order to keep up the ethnic image and
maintain family peace, however I don't have to like it. And I don't.
Pass
the bagels and lox. And the herring. And the rugelach.
And
I'll have a steak tonight.
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