Better Half recently accused me of doing nothing but read erotica and start messy art projects when she's not home. This is patently false. I hate erotica, and I save the messiest projects for when she's home so that I can better vex her. No, what I do when I'm alone is eat foods that I know horrify her. For example, today I bought a package of soft shell crab sushi at the (very very nice) Asian grocery store (that I love). I ate them in my car, knowing that the popping of the tobiko and the bug-like legs sticking out of my mouth would have resulted in an argument were I not alone.
But where I'm really going with this is that wasabi packets included with grocery store sushi (which I only buy at this one place, because grocery store sushi is horrible in general) are the devil's work. They are a pickle to open, and so I resorted as I always do to my teeth. This went pretty well, until I inadvertantly squeezed a bunch of wasabi into my mouth.
OH. HOLY. GODS.
It was so hot I actually rolled my eyes back and gasped in pain. I felt it in my neck. Jesus. I thought I was going to die.
2 comments:
My mother grew up partly in Japan, but never ate sushi when she was there. When I took her out for sushi a year or two ago she asked what the green stuff was. "Wasabi," I said, and she replied with real recognition, so I assumed she knew.
And then she took a big bite.
I swear she seemed she would never speak to me again.
Yet another reason to keep snips around.
R
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