Food for thought- II

You know you are going crazy when you have recurring nightmares of a plump giant chicken squawking away behind you while you squirm around like a worm, trying to hide from its scaly yellow claws. Fortunately for me, this early bird does not end up getting the worm.

You can either get to the food, or let the food get to you. And usually, I would prefer the former. After all, doesn’t the belly rule the mind? Don’t get me wrong, I am not a glutton- I am an explorer of food.

Haven’t we all watched a movie just for the bucket of buttered popcorn? Or watched late night reruns just to finish of the tub of double chocolate chip ice-cream? Who amongst us is not fond of fondue or plotted for a plate of pot rice? Or gorged on Gouda cheese and Foccacia bread? No man in the world has more courage than the man who can stop after eating one French fry.

There are some things in life you’ve got to bucket before you kick the bucket. Like a stone baked slice of calzone drizzled with virgin olive oil, or rich Belgian waffles with a side portion of nutella crème crepes with a dollop of fresh cream. A cut of pan seared pomfret with a sliver of herbs and garlic, to a square of exotic mocha crumble, with all its crunchy apple goodness, or a plate of mildly spiced chicken seekh kebabs, caked with a layer of a traditional kathi bread.

Good food, unlike a good friend is not hard to come by. You just need to know the right place. And the right plate. In the end, to binge or to cringe, that is the question. You can never have too many of both now, can you?

Food for thought is no substitute for the real thing. So I think to myself, what do I do the next time the hallucination hen comes up in my dream?
I eat it.
Probably with a chocolate milkshake, and a side order of fries.