Food is a
representation of who we are; smell, taste, texture, all tell some tale about
the person.
For those whose
passion is observing, those who love to watch the curse of the spectator is
that they must look even when they want to look away.
The urge to look is
so strong that it drags the spectator to moments, as if the person is sitting
alone in front of the big screen watching people, things and situations
happening around them.
Spectators learn
from others, the fabulous many who cross us each day, people we may know but
largely strangers, whose lives at sporadic moments we looks at or into.
Sticky rice is the
vast majority of people, urban and rural mix, who are exposed to lasting
damage, far worse than the effects of radiation. Our exposure is beneath our
skin, under our breath and over our souls. Our exposure seems to have imprinted
on us to be carried till we live. We are exposed to Data, Freedom of all sorts,
Internet, Porn, Music and all things fast that keep the crazy alive in
us.
We are all
pressure-cooked, which binds us to our starch. Some flavored with mustard or
sesame oil for smoothness, others with fish oil and others in vegetable stock,
but in the end, we are all sticky, pressure cooked, steaming hot and end up in
a wooden box. The invention of the pressure cooker may have been good but each
one of us has had to pay the price for our time in it, the whistles are only
temporary release. The longer we are in the cooker, the stickier we get.
We are sticky rice,
served with gravy, veggies or meat to make the meal taste better, but if you
look at us, we don't taste all that bad just as we are, the add-ons are only
frills for taste, variety and eating experience which keeps changing but sticky
rice stays, day after day just as it is.
We are the modern
age global citizens and the choice of eating mannerisms seals our fate;
defining how sticky rice will be handled or how smooth the experience will be.
There are clearly
three distinct eating mannerisms, above the others if one is to go by majority.
Eating with fingers
This is the basic
category, which the Alpha people use. They are the people of skin; they fondle,
caress, squash, dig, forcefully tear or separate and feel everything with all
senses as they eat things with delight, relishing every morsel. They also suck and
lick (fingers of course) while they enjoy each meal. These people are close to
their basics and despite feeling the heat of steaming hot sticky rice on their
skin, they stay focused on the meal and the delight it brings.
Sticky rice is in
for a roller coaster ride of lick, suck, squash and squeeze and stands exposed
to the pressure of being taken and used for as long as there is an appetite.
Alpha people are non-pretentious people they make no fuss about eating or
anything else.
So if sticky rice
wants to have a nostalgic moment of how it must have felt at the first Big
Bang, it would be now and with the Alpha people. The finger people are thankfully
not extinct, but to them a meal is just a meal, no more.
The Fork people
Often termed as the
metal people, they come in different combinations; two pronged, three pronged
and four pronged. Small F...ks and big ones too. They do what they know best:
poke. Sometimes superficially or deeply but poke they must, as they prick and
pick food.
The heat of sticky rice does not disturb the fork people as metal
can deal with it, no matter how hot the meal is served. When they can't balance
on their own the fork takes the assistance of the spoon, which works well to
spoon more and more till it's all polished off. And if there is any hindrance
the knife is always there to cut bits and pieces.
This entourage works best as
a group, a threesome, so don't enter expecting to play with one, the other two
are always laying close on the same table, on standby.
The metal people
are prim and meticulously, more focused on the elegant eating experience.
They don't spill, lick, suck or burp. They are dedicated to the art of
f...king, poking and ripping without making a mess. They might dip sticky rice
in various sauces for flavor, rain some pepper or paprika to add to taste, even
give sticky rice a blow till it's cool but they will eventually poke and cut
all the way till the end. Finally, they will dab the napkin to erase all
lingering traces of sticky rice. Here sticky rice will only be a good meal, one
among many.
Since the Fork
people are clear about everything from start to go, choose to eat sticky rice
with a four pronged f..k at least top of the line is a better than the small
f…k. Can't imagine the capability of the tiny two pronged fork; tiny to
hold and barely can it fork the many tits and bits of the morsel.
No matter the
selection of fork, they still remain metal people; poking sticky rice or tongue,
it's all the same. The elegant eating experience will always be more than the
taste and flavor of sticky rice.
Chopsticks
Chopsticks
come in two distinct sticks, both the same equal length, individual yet when
held together picks bits of the sticky rice, without squashing or poking.
No matter the big
or small pieces the sticks together can pick them up just as effortlessly. The
sticks hold, dip and carry sticky rice with ease. What a pleasure to be laid
out for chopsticks irrelevant of being a Sushi Californian roll or simply a
pile of sticky rice. They are not prickly nor do they tear at the rice and they always end each morsel as clean, ready for the next morsel.
The wooden sticks
feel the heat and know the starch yet the journey via the path of wasabi or soy
to the lips is a smooth one.
Both the sticks
know their role to make it happen, they work together as a single unit; one
minute separate, next minute one singular instrument.
Chopsticks are the
stick people they don't belong specifically to any age, gender, class, caste,
creed or religious orientation. Nor can they be classified as metro, homo or
heterosexual. They are simply people who are not jaded or classified, they have
courage to hold their own and stand separately as well as work as a unit
without intimidation, unlike the fingers or forks which are bound together and
need to work along with each other without a choice. Chopsticks retain their individuality
yet understand collective effort.
The two sticks are
like Ying and Yang they know how to balance karma every time they meet as a
unit, making it an enjoyable experience to eat sticky rice, gravy, veggie with
or without sauce. They don't poke, cut or slice. They pick, hold, carry, and dip
sticky rice, relishing each morsel as a unique moment.
We are sticky rice
and delicious just as we are, what we all need is a partner in the journey to
make the eating experience delightful. So choose whatever works best for you,
the table is laid, you are served and the choices are right before you.
What you choose
will define how you will be had.
Bon appetite.
