Jun. 9th, 2010 04:39 pm
"It's wahfer-theen!"
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I feel like I've unwittingly gotten myself into a contest of wills with my Korean surrogate parents. The side dishes have so thoroughly overtaken the meals I get from them that every week it's a struggle not to embarrass myself. Last Wednesday I confessed that I didn't even know what entree to order because I didn't know how much else was coming with it. Jay said he'd give me a half portion of bibimbap, but even that was too much when supplemented by fish cake soup, cucumber kimchi, marinated squid, pollack roe, and--the pièce de resistance--a lovely chunk of grilled mackerel. Oh, and two desserts, a regular sweet bun and a 붕어빵 or carp cake. (Named for its shape; no actual carp are involved in its preparation.) The former I could take with me--they even thoughtfully provided a piece of wax paper for transport--but carp cakes are only good hot.
This time, I didn't even order off the menu. I just gave them $20 and left it entirely up to them what to give me. I got back $12.02 in change as well as fried pot stickers, more marinated squid, a generous bowl of spicy chicken, and four slabs of marinated tofu. Oh, and--in case that wasn't enough--another half portion of bibimbap. I apologised to them again for not finishing it all, and Jay said, "Not tasty enough?" How do I explain that I simply can't eat like a damned teenager any more?
Speaking of damned teenagers, their son was helping out that day. They told me what colleges he was trying to get into and then Jay asked me, "Any advice?" "My college days were so long ago, I wouldn't know what to say!" I protested. But then I remembered one of the single most valuable pieces of advice I got from my dad: "Don't let your classes get in the way of your education." They nodded politely, but I don't think they really grasped the meaning.
This time, I didn't even order off the menu. I just gave them $20 and left it entirely up to them what to give me. I got back $12.02 in change as well as fried pot stickers, more marinated squid, a generous bowl of spicy chicken, and four slabs of marinated tofu. Oh, and--in case that wasn't enough--another half portion of bibimbap. I apologised to them again for not finishing it all, and Jay said, "Not tasty enough?" How do I explain that I simply can't eat like a damned teenager any more?
Speaking of damned teenagers, their son was helping out that day. They told me what colleges he was trying to get into and then Jay asked me, "Any advice?" "My college days were so long ago, I wouldn't know what to say!" I protested. But then I remembered one of the single most valuable pieces of advice I got from my dad: "Don't let your classes get in the way of your education." They nodded politely, but I don't think they really grasped the meaning.
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Be grateful that you don't also have Vietnamese surrogate parents. They're just the same!
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