many varieties of bean fill the shelves, but only a few will suit my newest curry invention. i need chick peas. red lentils to turn it into slush. a smattering of soya beans to give it texture. and a few dozen kidneys to break monotony.
the girl at the counter doesn’t understand. she says beans are bland. i tell her that it isn’t the beans which are bland, but the haircuts of those who eat them.
in order to back up my argument, i point to the tomato puree bottles stacked against the ancient jars of pickled cauliflower. i tell her that if the puree were to consume the cauliflower, it would think the cauliflower bland, but if the cauliflower were to consume the puree, it would think the puree to be the most boring of flavours. however, and i tell her this is the most important part, if you were to sprinkle a bit of romano on the puree, it would be tasty.
i tell her that gumbo sounds better than it is, although hatboy’s recent experiments with this odd little recipe has almost changed my opinion.
she hands me my beans and asks if i’d like anything else.
i buy a coke. it’s not as fizzy as it was when i was ten.
the girl at the counter doesn’t understand. she says beans are bland. i tell her that it isn’t the beans which are bland, but the haircuts of those who eat them.
in order to back up my argument, i point to the tomato puree bottles stacked against the ancient jars of pickled cauliflower. i tell her that if the puree were to consume the cauliflower, it would think the cauliflower bland, but if the cauliflower were to consume the puree, it would think the puree to be the most boring of flavours. however, and i tell her this is the most important part, if you were to sprinkle a bit of romano on the puree, it would be tasty.
i tell her that gumbo sounds better than it is, although hatboy’s recent experiments with this odd little recipe has almost changed my opinion.
she hands me my beans and asks if i’d like anything else.
i buy a coke. it’s not as fizzy as it was when i was ten.
No comments:
Post a Comment