“The farther backward you can look, the farther forward you are likely to see.”
That was my fortune in a cookie tonight. After dropping our children off at Awana, my husband and I decided to grab a quick bite to eat. We figured it would be like a date, a quick date, but time “alone” nonetheless.
We indulged the kid’s pleas for McDonalds prior to dropping them off. Until recently, my children hadn’t experienced McDonalds. After all I hate their bathrooms; however, McDonalds dominates the fast food world in NY and brainwashes children into becoming “McDynites” (a cross between kryptonite and McDonald’s kids). My children were exceptionally good today and entertained themselves for a solid two hours while I was in a meeting, so I rewarded them with artery clogging food (never learned the don’t use food as a reward lesson). They were sooooo happy!
Undoubtedly someone will mistake my next statements for racially derogatory comments. Nothing could be farther from the truth. A night out with my closest friends most closely resembles a meeting at the United Nations. Because I grew up in such a culturally diverse environment, I am “at home” with foreigners. My husband often says I grew up in the world of Sesame Street.
In spite of my love for cultures, I don’t often agree to dine on Chinese food. My husband LOVES Chinese food and it would be his first choice 9 out of 10 times. Obviously I create tension of the taste buds for him.
Like my fortune said, “the farther backward you can look”…my husband was once engaged to a Chinese woman…”the farther forward you are likely to see.” I know your vision is clearing; a new day of understanding is dawning.
I have subconsciously harbored emotions strong enough to alter my taste buds. It’s amazing! What’s more amazing is that I agreed to eat Chinese tonight. It sounded tempting.
I should have avoided temptation at all cost.
Sitting with a hot cup of tea in my hand, I perused the menu. “General Tso’s Chicken it is.” I placed my order and snacked expectantly on the crunchy noodles with duck sauce. They were fabulous; a precursor of the abundance to come. I momentarily forgot why it is I don’t frequent the local takeout.
While in a blissful fog, our waiter brought my entrée. It looked delicious. The plate was complete with a pink vegetable flower of sorts. What exquisite culinary art!
I dug right in, serving myself some sticky white rice (my favorite and oh, how I’ve missed it) and chunks of chicken. Did I mention that my stomach is EMPTY? I don’t skip meals (Precisely the reason for “Diet Friday.”) and it was way past meal-time for me.
Pink, stringy chicken looked up at me from a bed of pure white rice. There must be some mistake…I’m already salivating…it can’t all be raw. Frantically I begin cutting each chunk in half, stopping only when I heard “cocka-doodle-do.” It was ALL raw.
In defeat, I made my husband summon our waiter and I explained my dilemma. Now, I’m not one to complain about restaurant food. If I don’t have to cook it, I love it. It’s great any way you want to make it as long as it’s cooked. I don’t eat raw meat. I’m very closed minded.
Patiently, I waited for my new meal and was surprised by the promptness in which I received my new platter. They should have slowed down, because then my chicken may have actually been cooked. In my book, two strikes and you’re out. At this point, I’m not up to round three. I knew deep in my soul that I should not eat Chinese. Tonight confirmation came in the form of a clucking chicken.
From now on, my husband will have to go out “with the boys” when he wants Chinese food.
His fortune reads “To remember is to understand.”
I don’t think he’ll soon forget.
Tags: Chinese food, engaged, restaurant, take-out
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