942 PDX
From
MICHAEL LOO@1:123/140 to
ALL on Thursday, September 12, 2019 05:31:04
So as I mentioned before, I was visiting friends in one of the
crunchy granola states; they live in this commune-like arrangement,
which has its pluses and minuses, one of the main minuses being the
food, which is chosen by health and ideological values rather than
taste or general wholesomeness. It's a dreary round of soggy salad,
baked or raw dried vegetables, prepared goods from Whole Foods or
the equivalent, organic first-pressing vegetable and fruit blood,
and stale nuts (nobody seems to register that these are worse for
you than pretty much everything, including meat). Whole-wheat baked
goods - bread, crackers, pizza, confections, these last flavored
wth either raw cane juice or concentrated juice from reject fruit.
I breathed a sigh of relief when my hostess's daughter, perhaps
in my honor, came back with a roast chicken such as you might get
at Costco for $6 for a big one or your local super for $7 for a
small one. This was $11 from the natural food store, indistinguishable
from a small supermarket one only certified organic and certifiably
almost fatally salty. The girl served this with "power salad with
quinoa," worse luck. The salad did have that superfood aspect, but it
was rendered edible by large quantities of fruit juice-based dressing
and handfuls of dried cranberries and appley bits.
So my hostess is becoming increasingly handicapped but likes to be
independent ... I started cutting the white meat (which she prefers)
off for her, but she said, I'll do it myself ... and sawed away for a
while, eventually giving up; thereupon she took the one remaining leg
and thigh, so I asked her why she did this ... she said that she
couldn't cope with the breast so was going to take whatever would
come off. I offered to return to the scheduled programming, but no,
leaving me with shreds of white meat.
She sort of shredded the dark meat, eating half of it. I did salvage
some of the tastiness off her plate. Ah, well, better than nothing.
Culinarily at least I couldn't get out of there soon enough.
Eventually I convinced the wolf man and his wolf dog to walk me to
the light rail station, which in due time took me to the airport,
where my seat was thankfully 2B, so I rode back in comfort and alcohol.
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