There is no point to this blog, if only to say how funny life is. As I write this, I share a dog bed with three dogs.
Anyway, my ethnic food experience has reached new heights since I moved to South Florida. I am the only non Hispanic, non Latin (not the same thing you know, as I just learned the difference about 3 weeks ago) person working in my office. This has opened my eyes to many new culinary adventures as we order in take out almost everyday (the office pays for it no less!) Our repertoire consists primarily of the Cuban restaurant down the street, the Argentenian place (meat, meat, meat), the Italian place that has great lunch specials on Wednesdays, and of course, IHOP. Don’t ask me how this fits in.
As the sole gringa in the group, it makes smile to see me try these new things such as “fu-fu” (fou fou?) a Cuban Dish that is primarly unripe plantains mixed with pork fat. It’s actually much yummier than it sounds. My privy information, unknown to the average “tourista” sheds light on this whole “Cuban Sandwich” novelty that everyone ‘must try” when they come to Miami. The experience is lost on a “Cuban Sandwich” when what they should yearn for is the “Media Noche,” which is very similar to a Cuban sammy, but on much softer, sweeter bread, which is almost similar to a challab break. Individuals truly blessed will know to follow this up with a pastelles de guyaba, or a guava pastry.
But, aside from the typical Miami Hispanic experience, my culinary adventures happen at every turn of the corner as South Florida exposes itself to me in its all its rich, diverse splendid ways.
Scott and I are painting the kitchen a sea-mist blue-gray and therefor takeout was on the menu for the night. So, only in Hollywood, Florida, would you find bunch of New Yorkers-turned Native Floridians working and hanging out at the local take out, hole-in the wall Chinese restaurant. The lady who owns and runs the place is actually Chinese, in that seasoned Floridian, lived through-plenty-of-Hurricanes type of way. One of their local customers/impromptu PR person, touts in a Brooklyn accent that “the Curry Chicken is the only way to go,” and he would know, he’s been eatin’ here for ten years…” Just next door is the Jamaican grocery store, Bravo, and next to that is Daddy-O’s, our favorite liquor store, run by a group of guys from the Middle East somewhere.
So I digress, but I feel so spoiled and lucky to be exposed to the diversity in food choices and people we have here in South Florida. In thinking what we wanted for dinner tonight, our top choices consisted of “Falafel Fusion, (3 Guys from NYC, Jersey and Greece), Ricky’s Wings (former strip club; Ricky himself won the donkey kong championship of the world and they made a documentary about it), Chinese, Thai, or I guess we could order Indian for delivery.
So, for a bunch of Waspy Kids from Jersey and Atlanta by way of North Carolina, we made out okay. Need I mention that our Friday night consisted of Taverna Opa, where guest are encourage to dance on the tables to Greek disco-esque music, drinks at the Latin Bar where girls dance salsa on the bar, and then on the reggae bar, where, well, we danced to Reggae of course.
The point to all of this is, that, well, there may not actually be a point. I just love life down here and am so glad I have the opportunity to make Banana pudding (it’s a Southern Thing Yall!) out of the bananas growing in my back yard. Now, I have not yet begun making coconut preserve out of the coconuts in the backyard, but, well, don’t give me any ideas.
So, for my bloggly-metaphor for the night – let’s just say that South Florida is the gravy to my white rice. Now, has anyone seen my hotsauce?