 |
MELVIN DURAI'S AMUZING LIFE
One major benefit of having lots of cultures in America is the variety of food available. American food keeps evolving, depending on which people manage to cross the border.
I'm enjoying one of latest trends -- the trend toward spicy food, food that sometimes makes you want to call 911, so a firefighter can hose your tongue.
From buffalo wings to hot sausage, spicy chicken sandwiches to cajun catfish, American food is becoming so zesty, it's going to be almost impossible for me to stay on a diet.
My first taste of American food came years ago in a college cafeteria and, as you can imagine, I wasn't overly impressed. Just overly depressed.
Food in most college cafeterias is made to taste like it was microwaved and then sent through the dishwasher. Colleges serve unappetizing food on purpose, so students will have extra motivation to graduate quickly.
The food at my college seemed especially bland to me, because I was used to the spicy food of my native country, India, where many people are guilty of murder, having killed most of their taste buds.
Some Indian curries are so hot and spicy, you'll want to drink a gallon of water, partly to put out the fire on your tongue and partly to replace the water you've lost through sweating and crying.
Instead of telling everyone to drink eight glasses of water a day, doctors should recommend eating one hot curry a week. But that could create a major shortage of water.
When a waiter at an Indian restaurant gives you a napkin, it's not for wiping your mouth -- it's for wiping your tears. And those packets of sugar on the table are meant for emergency treatment.
Of course, Indian restaurants do serve a number of mild dishes, partly because they don't want a wimpy customer to sue them. Tongue-replacement surgery can be expensive.
But eating mild Indian food is like ordering a salad at McDonald's. It just doesn't seem right.
Spicy foods seem to have become more popular in America since my college days. Almost every restaurant has one spicy dish, even if it's just buffalo wings, those chicken wings smothered in hot sauce. Some wings are so hot, we ought to use them to punish criminals. They'd be a great deterrent.
JUDGE: "I sentence you to 15 years in prison, including five years in solitary confinement, 10 years of cleaning prison toilets, and three weeks of eating red-hot buffalo wings."
CROOK (on his knees): "Please, your honor. Not the wings. Anything but the wings. If you drop the wings, I promise I'll never again make deals with the Clintons."
I pride myself in being able to eat hot food. But even I have a limit. I once ordered a spicy dish called chicken vindaloo at an Indian restaurant. My friends warned me about it, but I didn't listen. I was eager to prove my manhood. I don't get many chances.
As soon as I tasted the dish, I regretted my decision. I might as well have ordered a bowl of jalapeno peppers. The fumes from my tongue almost set off the smoke detector.
Nowadays I stay away from anything named vindaloo. As I've come to realize, vindaloo is an Indian word that means "cry a lot."
All Rights Reserved
|