All my co-workers with family far flung across the world travel home on occasion. And they are all kind enough to bring back treats when they return. These tend to be highly packaged items suitable to the long journey they must make. They also tend to drift towards the weird, probably because weird really helps emphasize that the food is from a far distant culture.
And so it is, among a selection of snacks varying, much like the items in our vending machines, in level of edibility, we received for sharing in the break room a bag of grubs from Thailand.
I am not horrified. I am open to eating bugs.
I am even interested in eating bugs.
"Have a bug!" My Thai co-worker urged.
"Sure. Maybe. Do they taste good?"
"Not really." My Thai co-worker replied. "They don't taste like anything. No one really eats them there. But they say Americans like to try them."
I remember being introduced to sushi in the eighties, by my sister. Hard as it is to imagine at this point, I viewed the eating of raw fishes with suspicion.
"It's delicious!" I was informed. "You have to try some!"
It's a reasonable standard.
A small child can shove some dirt in their mouth.
And the moment they can make it delicious, I will be thrilled to join them.
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