I HATE INDIAN FOOD
It’s okay for me to say that–now. But in the future? Will we follow the lead of the National Children’s Bureau in Britain, which recently sent out a 366-page guide to the staff of pre-schools (according to the Telegraph), titled Young Children and Racial Justice?
“Racist incidents among children in early years settings tend to be around name-calling, casual thoughtless comments and peer group relationships.”
It advises nursery teachers to be on the alert for childish abuse such as: “blackie”, “Pakis”, “those people” or “they smell”.
The guide goes on to warn that children might also “react negatively to a culinary tradition other than their own by saying ‘yuk'”.
Of course, the NCB says the content has been misrepresented in the media, and the book is really a guide for teachers in their efforts to educate young children at a stage in life when they are easily influenced.
Now, I’m usually up for trying new foods, so I was interested to see this dish. I wasn’t paying much attention as the plate was passed, and then suddenly it was on Obi-wan’s desk, where I was sitting with Anakin on my knee, Obi-wan next to me….I swear to you, whatever that was, on that plate, it looked exactly, precisely like even little rows of blackish-brown cat poopies about 2 1/2 inches long and glistening with fresh digestive juices. I swallowed my bile and took one and placed it on my plate. I glanced at Obi-wan, who was staring wide-eyed at me, and he said one word, under his breath but FIRMLY: “NO.” Anakin was staring at me like he had a butcher knife hidden under his shirt and would, if forced, pull it out and carve me up like a turkey dinner. I quietly passed the plate on. I sat there for a minute, with my cat poop in front of me and tried to think of it as something other than cat poo. Finally, my stomach settled a bit, and I picked it up and raised it to my mouth and felt my gag response building and pretended to nibble on it. A bit later, when I was sure no one was looking, I stuffed it in a napkin and threw it away. I saw several of the children gag, too, and I know it hurt the cook’s feelings a bit. (But lady, come on. They’re 6 and 7 years old. They have not been conditioned to eat things that look like cat crap! What about some sensitivity to their cultural influences?)
On the way home, the Jedi and I talked about the proper way to decline food that you don’t want to eat, which is to simply say, “No, thank you.” They pointed out that adults will insist if you try that subtle approach, so I told them to keep saying it. I don’t think they’ve mastered that technique. In fact, I am reminded of an old friend from high school who, as far as I know, still responds with “THAT SH!T GAGS ME!” However, by the time the Jedi reach midlife, I am confident they will be able to decline unwanted food graciously. Let me tell you something: THAT CAT SH1T GAGGED ME. I am so NOT forcing myself to eat anything that gags me, and if you’re offended by that, you will just have to suck. it. up., you big a$$ baby.I don’t care where you come from.
Which reminds me of something. Awhile back, I was eating at Chinese buffet in rural Missouri (Missourians can’t get enough of those Chinese buffets. Those and Walgreen’s), and, on the buffet table, there was a stir-fried dish, the main ingrediant of which was fried frog legs.Fried frog legs rank up there with cat poop look-alikes. Not. eating. it. You may as well report me to the proper authorities now, the cultural sensitivity police or whatthefvckever. Geez, those rednecks and their fried weird stuff. What next, anyway, sweet and sour squirrel? Pigs’ feet Rangoon? I mean, I think it’s cool that they are mixing their cultures to create new dishes that they like. Sort of. Or maybe not. I’ll get back to you. I feel a little sickish thinking of those twig-like things wrapped in batter and floating in veggies.
I tried Indian food for the first time earlier this year. To be fair, it was a buffet, and it was a late lunch and most of the dishes were covered in skim stuff. But it tasted awful. I just could not eat it, although I did try. I’m really not a picky eater, but I didn’t like it. It just didn’t taste good in my mouth. My friend, whose idea it was to eat there, said that it wasn’t really representative of good Indian food, and other friends have said they love Indian food, and I should give it another try. I will. Once more. But then that’s it. If I don’t like it, we’re done, Indian food and me.
But I’m not eating your cat poop.