Spices

In the household of my parental units, spices are commonly used. Or should I say, almost in everything— on rice, salads, soups, pizza, hotdogs, staining fingernails, smelling up clothes, my breath, my parent’s breath and the stinky shoes of my cousin’s. The relatively not so spicy manager of a certain inn that my parents own, actually complained about my cousin’s stank he oh-so awfully spewed across the halls. Not many people like it, the smell of spices radiating from a random spicy person.

Along with the smell of sulfur, smoke, vanilla, and Arachnid’s hair in some cases, I love the wondrous scent of spices. Each time my parental units cook, my stomach grumbles like a humpback whale um…uh… groaning (Please tell me a better word for this. I don’t research whales). Eating them (spices in food not humpback whales) is better, since it adds a bit of a flavor that cannot be found in the food that was spiced.

An example would be scrambled eggs: I literally put a whole bottle of black pepper on those otherwise tasteless blobs! They are called scrambled for a reason, so I think they should taste scrambled.

Sadly, everything has a dark side, especially spices.

Everyday, for the meal of nighttime, my female parental unit puts these “seeds” within the dishes. They add a scent, but once I bite them I get a taste so bitter, so ughh, so much like a bad aftertaste of something, that I have to gag. Sometimes I don’t chew my parental unit’s cooking and just swallow so I don’t accidentally bite on a seed, releasing the monster within.

When I was a mini human of small portions, I used to throw out the seeds from my food, resulting in more time organizing the food rather than eating it. If it’s really filled to the brim with large seeds (the ones that ensure plants growing in ze stomach) I will not hesitate to put the troops in order.

In soups, seeds are the worst. Once I eat all the beautiful soupy parts of the soup, little black seeds are left on the bottom. Of course, since I don’t like disorder (of food) I will throw out the seeds, but I have to do it secretly so my parental units don’t catch me.

I have to be like a ninja.

One moment, I’m here, the other moment, I’m not.

(Was that a good ending?)

 

My Foodies

Surely, some of you, nonexistent readers, know what a food baby is. For those who don’t know, they are the result of what happens when you eat way too much of your favorite food. But the thing people never talk about are the food dudes or food babes, or the food … whatever suits your cup of tea.

*Sips milk tea*

Speaking of that, one of my food love interests is tea. Not just normal tea, milk tea, preferably with the black caterpillars, with lots and lots of sugar. If it is correctly done, tea is my weakness (Arachnid you can forget this). Unknowingly, when I am in a social gathering of old people who drink tea, I repeatedly go to the counter and fix up a cup of tea. Usually, I use these percentages for my tea making, so for those of you who do not like tea, take note:

Hot milk: 20%

Tea bag: 10% (if it is Earl Grey do 20%)

Sugar/ Honey: 70% (no butts!)

Another favorite foodie (scandalous!) of mine is underwater mini prawns, otherwise known as shrimps. I especially enjoy them on skewers, freshly grilled from the local seafood restaurant. Recently though, I discovered that all shrimps were bread using a disgusting technique where the shrimps are raised in dirty, toxic water. Of course, I didn’t think twice about eating shrimp for my occasional eight hour bath.

Cheesecake is one of my sweetest food … whatever suits my tea, because who doesn’t love cheese + cake! (Except the lactose intolerants…you are missing out.) It is so creamy and sweet and wonderful. Sometimes I cut up the cheese cake into teeny pieces then chew, say about thirty-three times and try to savor the flavor as much as I can. Let’s just say cheesecake is hard to come by for a below average wage author such as myself with a carnivorous monster always there to eat my food.

404 NO ENDING FOUND

BYE.