NO THANKS, I'M NOT HUNGRY

Chilipeppers are a blessing. They are probably the only thing that makes heavy bland white person food edible.
Like me, you probably needed a dollop of chilipepper paste (sambal) with your thanksgiving turkey, or the pot-roast you had over at the Smiths.

[In fact, I don’t think I know anybody named Smith, and I doubt that they would invite me over. There aren’t that many whitebreads in my social environment. But calling a fictitious family of hospitable all-Americans ‘the Smiths’ is a convenient fancy. They cook bland.]

JALAPEÑO
Back in the nineties I worked at a computer company in Menlo Park.
Once I had experienced the ghastly food in the suburbs first hand, I got into the habit of packing a baggy of jalapeños every morning, to make whatever I would have the misfortune to eat for lunch edible.
For anything from the roach-coach, all of them were necessary (8-12).
Italian food in downtown Palo Alto: maybe three.
Goat curry at the Jamaican place: one.

There was one place where I didn’t need the peppers. I’m afraid I cannot remember the name, but their chimichangas were superb. One of the salsas they made fresh everyday was fire-roasted chile peron with a little cumin and salt. It was delicious.


CHILE PERON
The remarkable thing about the chile peron and its sibling the chile manzana is the particular capsaicin molecule. It does not register as hot to some people, even those not used to heat, whereas others, even if they eat spicy food on a regular basis, may find it extraordinary. The office manager at Fweebink once tasted a sliver from some chiles I had on my desk and ran for the women’s room screaming and choking, her face red and her lips purple. She normally ate Thai chiles and Santakas.
She accused me of being an evil bloodthirsty heathen for weeks afterwards.
For me it was a nice fruity mild-heat. Juicy flesh. Lovely.


HABANERO
After several months of deprivation, eating bland suburban crap, I decided to bring my own hot sauce.
It was a simple compound, similar to ‘sauce chien’ – a dozen habaneros osterized with salt, sugar, garlic, vinegar, and a little spice. That first bottle disappeared within a day – I had forgotten that some of the engineers were also frantic.
If I remember correctly, Duckwhistle Chin insisted I sell it to him.
For over a year I had a nice little side-business vending homemade hot sauce to desperate engineers and programmers. And their friends. And acquaintances of theirs at other computer companies as far south as San Jose.
As well as random strangers who had ... 'heard'.
Yes, the food in the suburbs is that bad.


BLAND BLURK
There are times in downtown San Francisco when it seems that the suburbs have come home to roost. There are two McDonalds within walking distance of the office, a Taco Bell, a Bob's Big Boy, a Boo-King, and a Jack in the Box.
Quiznos and Subway have multiple locations. There are sandwich shops. Soup and salad huts. Pizzerias with a huge number of vegetarian options. Dogs. Burgers. Vegan.

The suburbanites must love it here, their pale pasty-faced food whims are catered to big time.

[I really wish we worked closer to Chinatown (唐人街). Some wonton (餛飩) soup right now would be lovely. Or yüpien jook (sliced fish rice porridge 魚片粥) with yautieuw (fried dough strips 油條). And a peydan-so (century egg flaky pastry 皮蛋酥) from the bakery-counter on the way out.]

In the last week, some hip chain selling generic sandwiches, soups, salads, and wraps opened up across the street. It has been filled every day. It is beloved.
The espresso bar on the ground floor of this building has been replaced by a bunch of amateurs selling all vegan biodegradable fair-trade sustainable macrobiotic politically correct socially responsible well-meaning environmental green slop designer coffee - they are catering to well-meaning folks with no taste from the countryside.
You know, South City, San Bruno, Brisbane, and Oakland.

Each day while I'm smoking my pipe, insipid looking dudes walk by carrying salads. Secretarial bovines with energy bars and diet shakes.
I've seen people eating no-fat granola yoghurt cups for fun.
Good lord, they're taking over.
I may have to start making my own hot sauce again.


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