Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

I remember a time, a long, long time ago, when my daily routine consisted of a large vanilla cappuccino as soon as I left the house, which kept me occupied until I got to the McDonald’s drive-thru, where a breakfast meal carried me over until I got to my desk. Sometime throughout the morning a sales rep would either bring us bagles, donuts, or someone would go out for some kind of breakfast treat. I began thinking about which super-sized meal I wanted for lunch about mid-morning, and what afternoon snack I wanted before I even finished my lunch time meal. Dinner was more of the same, as well as a bed-time snack. I was all about the comfort food, and couldn’t fathom trying something new, for fear I might not like it and wouldn’t actually have the satisfaction of over-indulging in it.
I can hardly remember that Tabatha now though, having successfully beaten that gluttonous girl into submission and kept her there for nearly ten years. (For the most part anyway. Occasionally she overthrows me and forces me to eat chocolate, a donut, or horrible taco bell food.)
I flashed back to previous feeding frenzies last night, as I prepared to experience my first taste of Indian food. In my attempt to try new things, I was excited to try it and check it off my list of things in life, but was also prepared to pretend I didn’t hate it. I left the ordering up to Mr. R, who was experienced in all things Indian food, and I waited anxiously for our chicken tikka masala, saag paneer with garlic naan bread and jasmine rice.
The first thing I noticed as the waiter placed the food on the table was how intense and vibrant the colors were. Kind of like the little plastic trays of water paints. The sauce on the chicken was a bright yellow, and aside from mustard, I couldn’t remember having ever eaten anything that yellow before. Actually I couldn’t remember having eaten anything yellow at all. I bravely piled it all together on my plate, scooped up a forkful, and braced myself for disappointment.
Wow. It was kind of like an explosion in my mouth. It certainly wasn’t the caress of mashed potatoes and gravy, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It seemed a little harsh initially, and my sinuses began to burn a little, but after a moment I realized I actually liked the flavor. It was the most foreign thing I’ve ever tasted, and I wondered what it would be like to live in a world where this food was standard fare. I went back for round two, and thoroughly enjoyed every bite. I didn’t much care for the rice pudding dish that came as dessert, but that was more of a texture thing that I’ve always harbored against rice pudding and frog-eye salad.

June 25, 2012 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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