Chow Time
Yesterday I had the pleasure of experiencing my first
authentic Chinese meal. When I was
younger, even the pickiest eater looked like Oliver Twist compared to me. I remember on several occasions my
mother would prepare a dish she called porcupine meatballs (basically meatballs
with rice grains). Well, rice was
one of the top items on my “I will not eat this” list, and so each time
porcupine meatballs was on the menu, I would precariously pick through my dish,
eliminating each grain of rice and depositing it into my napkin. This process would take hours at the least,
and as my mother washed the dishes, she would patiently repeat “Two more bites,
Megan.”

Everything was served chilled, and to my surprise there were very few vegetables, but a variety of meat including a few pieces that looked like a cross section of a very fat centipede. One of my fellow travelers informed me that it was in fact tripe (cow’s stomach). So I gave it a go. A little rubbery, but once you get over the texture, all you can taste is the countless spices used to cover up whatever it originally tasted like. Not too bad.
Tags: food
After a while of traveling in foreign countries, you begin to realize that it's not just your luggage that can get lost. When you don't speak the language, you loose your ability to speak. If you can't decipher the written word, you loose your ability to read. And if you can't read the signs to know where you're going, you yourself can get lost. It can be a bit overwhelming, and at times humiliating, but I'm sure even Odysseus experienced frustration on his adventurous travels. This blog is my account of my travels. Hopefully, my blunders will assure others that they are not the only ones lost in translation.