the dance of the ink riddled fingers


Posted in incr-edibles, thought spills by enisea on 31/03/2012

A great confusion had just occured in the Fong house.  Upon greeting the small inhabitants of Pantry World one morning, I saw an unfamiliar individual and came closer to ask its name (for I like to make acquaintances with those of the edible family).  I knew this one, sort of. He looked very alike others I’d come to know and love. So you can imagine my surprise when I picked him up with smile, and then having realised who he was, put him down, confused. He introduced himself to me as “Smooth” and I wasn’t sure if I agreed.

Later on, I asked the two older occupants of our dear household of their involvement with him.  “Which of you invited Smooth to be here?” I asked, with as little tone of judgement as I could manage.  Both replies informed me they were as confused as I.  So, by process of illimination, this “openness” was the decision of our youngest.  Being judgemental, I avoided him every time I opened the pantry, not affording him any sort of welcome.

It took me a couple of weeks, actually to wear down my defenses over why I should perhaps give him a chance to prove himself.  And honest to goodness, I’m glad that I did.  I had missed the dance that PB&J had usually grooved over my palate, but I wasn’t one for any Smooth waltz.  I had grown up on and was especially inclined to favour the lively and bumpy jazz that I’d only ever experienced.  But compromise.  I decided to allow Smooth to spread himself over the crisp stage while a familiar lady swirled her red presence over the remaining area.  Call me cruel but I smiled a wry smile and left to find the one thing that I knew would make me love this, in a whole new experience that might just rock my world.  And it did, I was right.

I confess, I am a crunch-ist. I have little tolerance or acceptance for smooth foods.  There is nothing more entertaining than interactive edibles and the smooth ones go down too quietly, with a sigh if anything.  But give me something with personality, something I can chew the fat with.  Ah, entertain me, humour me – I’m nuts for a good crunch.  Smooth, I cannot bring myself to accept you for what you are.

And no, I’m not sorry for it.


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