THE SAUCERS HAVEN'T LANDED YET

Over on Facebook a friend (whom I also know in the real world) plaintively stated that after several years of glopping sour cream on everything, he no longer likes the stuff. Several other people expressed concern, and offered theories. Remarkably, I am fascinated by the ongoing discussion.

Yeah, no, my own theory got shot out of the water.
The circumstances did not co-operate.
It was too sudden.


In case you were wondering, space aliens had absolutely nothing to do with it, and he doesn't have any weird ideologically based dietary affectations. Creeping veganism or gluten heresy are not part of his programme.
He just doesn't like sour cream anymore.

A few brave souls suggested that age was responsible, which prompted squawks of outrage from the smetana-phobe, and while that may indeed be the case, I certainly shan't say so. The last time I mentioned creeping antiquity to him, he called me a bitch and mentioned that he was still very, very young, had no arthritis AT ALL, and voted Democrat.
And that in comparison, I was a fossil.


I think I still like sour cream. I had it in my burrito a few days ago. Carnitas, Spanish rice, cheese, salsa picante, sour cream, no beans, lovingly rolled in a tortilla de harina by the deft hands of a woman (or man, don't know) of a racial and ethnic derivation that made her (or him) hated by a large part of this country (where I will not go, and a pox upon them).

Indeed, one can get a burrito made by white persons. Even here in the Bay Area. But that chain has given food poisoning to so many people, so often, that one wonders how they are still in business. There just aren't enough racist Texans to account for it. Maybe it's the vegans and gluten-phobes?
There are NO substitutes for carnitas and sour cream.
Lard-free flour tortillas are kind of nasty.
Tofu is just not acceptable.


Well, tofu is quite acceptable if you are having it stuffed with shrimp paste, fatty pork, plus ginger and scallion, deep-fried, like civilized people. But not like a Berkeleyite. No amount of salsa picante can ameliorate that.



Fortunately sour cream plays scant role in Chinese and Vietnamese cuisine, and other than California sushi has no part in anything Japanese either.
So he can still dine socially.


Lucky bastard.


I hardly ever dine socially. Today I'll be going over to Chinatown for baked Portuguese chicken rice by myself. The portion is too generous, and I'll take some home in a small container afterwards. At that time of day the dining hall will not be crowded, so I'll dawdle a while before wandering the alleys smoking a pipe, and other than the occasional "howdy", will have no interaction with other people.

[唐人阜 ('tong yan fao'), 焗葡國雞飯 ( 'guk pou gwok gai faan'), 奶茶 ('naai cha').]

I'm still waiting for a bright young thing to strike up a conversation.
Perhaps complimenting my pipe, or asking for the time.
We can discuss existenzangst or dairy!




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