So maybe, just maybe, there is another reason that Emit hates me.
Anybody who knows me, knows of my plethora of food allergies and picky-ness. So it's really hard to eat a lot at other peoples homes, especially when you don't know the ingredients - or can't translate the ingredients. The first time I ate at my friend Bryan's house, Emit made a huge green salad with chicken - pretty safe. But everytime thereafter - he's made breaded something or other - definately not what I can eat.
Then (see if you can catch the jist of where this might end up) Bryan asked if I knew how to make a cheesecake, and if I did, could I possibly come over and show Emit how. Well, of course! Give Emit and I some bonding time, play with the dogs and keep my baking skills up to par. Hell, maybe I'd even learn some Bengali, right?
I show up yesterday to a very cold and angry Emit. Who promptly makes it very clear to me by hissing at me the entire time I'm baking that he's been a cook for 20 years, that my cake is full of fat, and "Sir" (Bryan) only likes his cakes, and won't like mine. So I just nattered at him in Hindi. ("The mean cook is in the kitchen. The cake is on the table. My hair is yellow. My name is Andrea. That is too expensive...") When I was finished, and explained that it would have to go in the oven for 1 hour and 10 minutes, I decided to take the dogs for a very, very long walk, until I was sure Bryan was home, or the cake came out, whichever came first. So, 1 hour and 10 minutes later, Bryan is home - and the cake is still in the over for another 15 minutes. The Bengali bastard sabotaged me!
He wouldn't let me take the cake out, and so I ate all his stupid food and told him it was good and he still hates me and now I have a tummy ache. And a bad cake in a friends fridge. And was angry until Bryan basically pointed out that I ate once, never ate again, then came over to give Emit cooking lessons. Ok. So maybe we could have gone about that in a better way.
*sigh* The mean cook is in the kitchen. The cake is on the table. My hair is yellow.....
Anybody who knows me, knows of my plethora of food allergies and picky-ness. So it's really hard to eat a lot at other peoples homes, especially when you don't know the ingredients - or can't translate the ingredients. The first time I ate at my friend Bryan's house, Emit made a huge green salad with chicken - pretty safe. But everytime thereafter - he's made breaded something or other - definately not what I can eat.
Then (see if you can catch the jist of where this might end up) Bryan asked if I knew how to make a cheesecake, and if I did, could I possibly come over and show Emit how. Well, of course! Give Emit and I some bonding time, play with the dogs and keep my baking skills up to par. Hell, maybe I'd even learn some Bengali, right?
I show up yesterday to a very cold and angry Emit. Who promptly makes it very clear to me by hissing at me the entire time I'm baking that he's been a cook for 20 years, that my cake is full of fat, and "Sir" (Bryan) only likes his cakes, and won't like mine. So I just nattered at him in Hindi. ("The mean cook is in the kitchen. The cake is on the table. My hair is yellow. My name is Andrea. That is too expensive...") When I was finished, and explained that it would have to go in the oven for 1 hour and 10 minutes, I decided to take the dogs for a very, very long walk, until I was sure Bryan was home, or the cake came out, whichever came first. So, 1 hour and 10 minutes later, Bryan is home - and the cake is still in the over for another 15 minutes. The Bengali bastard sabotaged me!
He wouldn't let me take the cake out, and so I ate all his stupid food and told him it was good and he still hates me and now I have a tummy ache. And a bad cake in a friends fridge. And was angry until Bryan basically pointed out that I ate once, never ate again, then came over to give Emit cooking lessons. Ok. So maybe we could have gone about that in a better way.
*sigh* The mean cook is in the kitchen. The cake is on the table. My hair is yellow.....
2 comments:
You are so much fun. I love reading your weblog, it's like reading a very well written novel. You should consider publishing your memoir in India. It is fun and amazing.
Sally (Mo's wife)
ha ha ha! Never under-estimate your enemy! That was funny.
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