July 26, 2011
Today’s lunchtime conversation
Daryl: Here, taste this.
Cindy: No.
D: Really, taste it. It tastes like zero. It tastes like chew.
C: Well, if you put it that way. [Prodigious chewing.] Wow. It tastes like chew, but there’s a lovely coconut aftertaste. Here, taste it again.
D: [Prodigious chewing.] You’re a liar.
C: God damn it, it tastes like coconut at the end.
D: You’re tasting the word Coconut.
C: I almost never taste words. Take this little bit.
D: [Prodigious chewing.] Nope.
C: You’re missing the coconut stripe on your tongue. You are deformed.
D: Am not.
C: Are too.
D: You gonna eat the rest of that?
comments
Leave a Reply


Thank you.
I love this.
You jerks are going to get a hug one of these days.
You are deformed.
That’s kind of like the Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Cinqué Lee Japanese plum scene in that episode of Mystery Train.
Sheila, exactly–it was an inside joke, and you got it.
Imagining a clusterflock remake. Cindy in the Screamin’ Jay role. Daryl in Cinqué’s bellhop role. Pondering the casting of the young Japanese couple.
I’m pretty sure that would be Amanda Mae and Josh. Drunk.
I can totally see Amae as the Japanese guy.
“Carl Perkins.”
And Josh. Wearing eyeliner.
“This plum from Japan.”
“Roy Orbison.”
I know where to pitch the broken glass.
Cindy (as desk clerk): Say, you have any more of those Japanese plums, or any other exotic fruits from around the globe?
Also want to hear Cindy say, “You look like a damned mosquito-legged chimpanzee.”
oH. mY. gaWD!
It’s all just too good.
I love it that nobody has asked just what it was that we were tasting.
Oh, yeah, that’s, like, irrelevant.
Yeah, is that even important?
Something that may or may not have had a hint of coconut.
It was like a bundt cake made of macerated gummy bears.
Well, that’s something.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. It was Vietnamese cassava cake. With coconut milk in it. That left a lovely aftertaste. Of coconut.
I wish Deron had been there. He’d've been looking for a sink to spit in.
I’d have eaten it all up. And bought another slice for you, Cindy.
Thank you, Sheila. It was good!
Did I ever tell y’all about the first time I took Daryl to an Indian restaurant, almost 30 years ago? He had a tough time getting through the meal, but he was doing okay until I encouraged him to take a spoonful of fennel seeds on the way out. He spit it out on the sidewalk just outside the door.
My dear friend Steve did the very exact same thing, Cindy, and that’s no lie. I love him to pieces, but I just don’t get it. Dang silly boys.
Danny and Margo took me to a Thai restaurant years ago for lunch in DC. They ordered “bubble” tea. I ordered one, too. Couldn’t drink it. Too sweet.
Then coconut milk in the sauce in most things? I couldn’t. I also have a problem with “five-spice” added to many asian dishes. I can’t abide “anise” in anything. Licoricey. I can taste it in less than a millionth part per hundred. Don’t care for it. If I sense it, I have to do something else or go hungry.
For the record, I love peanuts and spicy. Sometimes Thai food is on the ticket when I know what to order. I said this before, “I get my news from Danny.”
For the record, I love Indian food now. Still don’t want those seeds in the bowl by the door, though. I like many foods, and many ways of cooking it, and I like to try new things. Durian? No. I don’t like foods that seem to move in for good; I don’t like recycled foods (coffee beans some animal has shit, for instance); I don’t like foods made from pets; I don’t like foods that arise from hyperactive metaphor; I don’t like foods arising from a “more is more” belief, and I’m sure there’s more but I just ate great stuff Cindy made so I’m feeling pretty good about food in general at the moment.
Andrew and I have been without Danny’s culinary expertise for nearly a month. We have satisficed with burgers off the grill and fries from the oven. (The tomatoes, just now, are to die for.) Or Pappa Murphy’s “take and bake” pizza. (I am no chef.)
I’m going to pick Danny up tomorrow and he’ll be home again until next July.
Do y’all have any idea (not just his kitchen skills) how much I’ve missed him?
Oh, Rick. I’m so glad you’ll have your Danny home with you.
Cindy, I’m counting the hours until I see him tomorrow.
Big hug.