French Toast and Fried Rice

We were sitting at dinner a few nights ago with out a menu and so Alison and I decided to create our own menu that consisted of whatever we wanted at that very moment.

French Dip.

Grilled Cheese.

Our orders became ridiculously unrealisitic at an Asian restaurant in the middle of Phnom Penh.

French Toast.

We finally got a hold of the real menu, the one with Asian dishes listed in Khmer, at the same time that the waiter approached our end of the table to take orders.

We slammed our fingers down on random menu items to quickly decide what to order. A rushed “Fried Sweet and Sour Chicken” and “Beef with Onions” blurted out of our mouths that were secretly watering for American cuisine.

Many whiles later, our food arrived, tasted quite good, and sank into our stomachs. Following a long walk back to the hotel, we enjoyed the trickery of the hotel shower, gagged on the hotel toothpaste, tinkered with the hotel air conditioner, and found comfort in the raspy sheets of the hotel beds.

Wake up, shower, and split. Half of the the group eat here, half eat there. Alison and I ate HERE, at a restaurant across the street from the hotel. We maneuvered through the vroom-zoom traffic and sat down. The language barrier encouraged us to keep things simple. Chicken Fried Rice for ten people. How much easier could this get?

It was simple enough. After seeing hearts break and be mended over and over watching as many saplovely Cambodian music videos that will fit in a fifteen minute time span, our rice was served.

Rice. Fried Rice. Dry. Bland. Crunch?
What? Oh, don’t worry, that is just a few (or many) uncooked grains.

CRUNCH!!? Oh, don’t worry. That is just a piece of bone.

BONE?!
Oh, okay…?
GRRKL.
Stomach ache.

We weren’t sure, until now, that fried rice could be extremely messed up.

On the bus we go. Two and a half hours on bad fried rice.
Moan.
Complain.
Sigh.
Ask: “What did you guys have for dinner over THERE?”
Hear: “French Toast.”
No.
WHAT!!?
“Yes, French Toast.”
Jealousy.
Major jealousy.
Last night’s dream just became a reality. But not for me. Not for Alison. For the people who went THERE. The situation between HERE and THERE just became extremely uneven. It must be straightened out. Alison and I, we have plans to straighten it out. We have plans to go THERE. We have plans to take over THERE. To eat french toast until we are full and then eat french toast some more.

And for the others, we will put bones in their rice. We will hide them there so that they create and unexpected crunch between their teeth. Because here, French Toast is a luxury. Not something to tease people with. It is a serious thing and bony rice will not take its place in my stomach.

Jacoba Bulthuis

P.S. This bony rice incident actually happened a few days ago. Alison have not tortured the others with bony rice and have moved on from the french toast incident. Although we still feel that it was extremely unfair.

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2 comments so far

  1. Ann DeRooy on

    Oh!!!! I can feel your pain! Imagine that they got what you were craving! How ironic.

  2. calvinstudent on

    Mine had bones AND hair. Classy.
    -Bethany


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