Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
I love the wonderful variety of ethnic foods that has become available to us here in America over the last 20 years or so. Spicy is fine with me, as long as my head doesn’t melt. I’ve enjoyed Thai, Indian, true Mexican–not the Americanized version–and Japanese. So much wonderful flavor, aroma, and visual enjoyment.
Terry? Not so much. And I’m feeling deprived these days, because he’s doing all the cooking. He likes plain chicken, plain vegetables, plain potatoes or rice. Plain fish, plain beef. “I just like the flavor of the food. I don’t need all that junk you like to put on it!”
Alas! And how can I complain, when he is so willing to take over for me while my creaky old back is keeping me down and out.
When we were in California in April, we went to a Thai restaurant. First time ever for us, and I honestly couldn’t get enough of the unique flavors. I had a sandwich, can’t remember the name of it, that tickled my taste buds into delerium. It looked a lot like this:
And here’s a Vietnamese version:
Then there is a dish from India that my son-in-law, who grew up in Kenya, has introduced to us. Chicken Tikka Masala. Oh my. My mouth waters just thinking about it.
When my son Dan went to Thailand, he learned to make a non-spicy dish that even Terry likes. Pad Thai can be made with just about any meat, fish, or poultry. This one features shrimp, and again, my mouth waters with the memory of all the different herbs used in this dish:
Not that there isn’t a lot of wonderful American food. Nothing beats our annual Thanksgiving dinner, and who doesn’t love fried chicken, apple pie, or pot roast? All delightful and flavorful when correctly prepared. But I have to admit, I’ve loved expanding my horizons to enjoy the ethnic cuisines of countries I’ll probably never see.