This morning (well, let's be honest--this afternoon) I went across the street to get some breakfast (another lie--a ham and cheese sandwich) at the local bodega. For those lacking Spanish or that live outside of NYC, a bodega is basically a convenience store, What makes them unique is that they're usually extremely cramped, run by Hispanics (or Koreans), and stocked with all sorts of strange stuff.
In my neighborhood we lack many things. Bodegas are not one of those things. Across the street from me are two different bodegas (I refer to them as "the one on the right" and "the one on the left." Others prefer to use colors to differentiate between the two, but I can never seem to remember the different colors). Anyway, there is also a bodega on the corner and one across the street from that one. In short, there are many bodegas.
So, these two bodegas across the street serve two very different purposes. We (those of my house) buy beer and cigarettes at the one on the left, and all other staples at the bodega on the right. The bodega on the right also makes a damn fine sandwich. As these bodegas serve many purposes, I have become quite friendly with their owners. I chat with the people behind the counter at the bodega on the right, and say hello to the groups of beer-drinking men at the left bodega.
And so today I walked into the bodega on the right to buy a sandwich, and came upon the woman who runs the place (jointly with her husband) and one of her three sons. They were both eating something out of a bowl, and I looked into the bowl curiously. What, I wondered, would the bowls of these Nicaraguans reveal? Perhaps some interesting traditional Central American foodstuff?
Well, no. They were both enjoying a bowl of rice, beef and Oreo cookies. They explained to me how delicious this was, discussing the marriage of sweet and savory, the variations on the same theme, the many other scrumptious similar dishes that they had eaten. I in turn regaled them with stories of peanut butter and lettuce sandwiches that I had eaten. Admittedly, these stories paled in comparison to their own stories).
I therefore present to you, my reader, a photograph of this meal. God's honest truth, they were really eating this.
****UPDATE 11/18/05****
Right. So my father works for Kraft, which owns Nabisco (he used to work for Nabisco), which makes Oreo cookies. After I sent the link to this blog to my father the other day, he apparently laughted heartily and passed the link onto those in his company that make and market Oreo cookies.
Who knows? Maybe we'll soon see new and improved Oreo cookies
NOW FORTIFIED WITH RICE!!!
Something like this, perhaps?
Or this?
Hey Chris,
ReplyDeleteThat's so funny- I was just thinking this morning about strange food tastes and how we all have one. I'll have to give the peanut butter and lettuce a try- is that all there is to it? My fav would be raw potatoes- I love them with a little salt! Anyway- I'm enjoying your daily musings- gorgeous photos from yesterday. It snowed here last night and today, so no more colored trees till April :(