little bitty girl

I've been reading my cousin's blog in Asia and she's been talking a lot about food that she likes or is craving. Which has made me start to think that what my Kong Kong (Grandpa) used to call me (Banana - Yellow on the outside, White on the inside) might not be so far off. Mind you, I think he just called me that because I could never master the different dialects of Chinese that he would speak and not because of my food preferences. These are some reasons why I think I might not be 100% Asian.

I can eat cheese until the cows come home.
Most Asians I know tend to be lactose intollerant. Ken, my oldest brother, happens to be one of them. The man loves the cheese but giving him any in a small enclosed space, (like his apartment in NY) is like asking for a slow, painful toxic death. I usually toss it into his apartment and run away. I, on the other hand, can eat all types of cheese and it never affects me.

I don't like chicken feet.
I know many food bloggers have extolled on this delicacy and how if people could get over the fact that they were feet, they would come to understand how tasty the morsel really was. I think that there is a special way on how to eat them and I've never mastered it. Now, I'm just way too old to be bothered. After all, there are many other weird things in the world to eat, what's one less in my repertoire? Unfortunately, for my Asian friends and family who have to sit next to me during dim sum, I am the person that everyone in the room will give me the googly eye because I always pass on the stupid chicken feet.

Durian is not my king.
The Durian has long been called the king of fruit due to it's thorny shell. This fruit is mainly prevalent in South East Asia and Malaysians worship it. I have to admit that I love the taste; the fruit is a little like rich sweet custard, there is nothing like it in the world. The smell? Imagine wet hockey equipment left in bag, sitting in sunny spot all week and the stench that emanates when you finally deem to open it. Disgusting! As a little girl, as soon as I found out that the family had gone out to buy the fruit, would run around and lock all the doors and windows and make everyone eat the fruit outside. I am sure I'll eat it again at some point, I'll just have to make sure that my nose is plugged.

You can take my rice but don't take my pasta.
A lot of Asians I know can't live without having rice every day. My dad freaks out if there is anything less than 20 pounds of rice in the pantry. I don't really care if I never eat rice again for the rest of my life but you really can't take anything noodle-ish away from me. I blame this on living in an Italian neighbourhood when we first moved here. I just love my pasta!