There, They Just Call It "Food"

Back when I was living in the Bay Area, lunchtime was the hour to honor those cravings that had grabbed me by the viscera and refused to let go. Many of the restaurants that I developed cravings for were also known to my peers, so it was common for us to carpool to grab a bite. Sometimes, a craving for a particular ethnic food would just refuse to let go, even after a few days of feeding the same craving.

But one coworker in particular balked on more than one occasion when the selection of the day was announced. "Mexican? We just had Mexican on Tuesday (three days prior)." "Indian? Again? We went there last week." So I'd ask him, "What did you have for dinner?" "Mom cooked." "So, Chinese?" "Yeah." "And the night before that?" "Mom again." "Ok, so it's safe to say that you eat Chinese almost every night?" "Yeah, but that's different." "Uh huh. There, they just call it 'food'."

I had a little event on Friday for Cinco de Mayo (do you know what it commemorates?!). The plan was for some good grub... and a few more people than actually showed up. The result? Lots of leftovers. Lots of Mexican food to consume. But hey, there, they just call it "food".