Ok, forget the Taliban. Or the drivers in Kabul that drive like a Romanian guy trying to jump the line at Euro Disney, seeming to push and shove their way through traffic (or considering the sidewalk a reasonable overflow lane). Or even the incessant dust, that turns your sinuses to sand paper, and covers everything with a film that has to be wiped off every 20 minutes, for fear that if you sit in a ladderback chair and get up, you will look like an escapee from the Kabul Penitentiary. No my friends, I now know how I die.
Beans.
That’s right. Red beans, kind of like the Pork and Beans variety, only without the pork or the sauce. Jeez, almost everyday for lunch, we get beans. With Afghan bread (pretty good), sliced cucumbers, tomatoes, and a runny kind of yoghurt. That’s it.
These meals are interrupted by green bean soup. I never even tasted green bean soup. But we have it one day in 3. It breaks up the red bean menu. Same supporting cast though—bread, cucumbers and tomatoes, and yoghurt.
Listen, I am from the Midwest, which means I can’t insult the chef no matter what poisonous concoction he has prepared. But I think he is going to kill me. I am trying to figure a way to introduce peanut butter sandwiches to the menu without insulting the poor guy. And in fairness, when you turn the cleaner into the cook, I guess you are asking for trouble.
In the meantime, it’s red beans. No rice. No sausage. Just beans. Geez. It ain't tasting good going down, and it ain't smelling good coming out. And it ain't so good in between. I used to report on the lunch discussions, but I now have such an aversion to the beans, I really can’t concentrate on anything else…..sorry.
We are changing cooks in 2 weeks. If I survive, I will start reporting on what people are talking about. Until then, don’t get between me and the bathroom.
Beans.
That’s right. Red beans, kind of like the Pork and Beans variety, only without the pork or the sauce. Jeez, almost everyday for lunch, we get beans. With Afghan bread (pretty good), sliced cucumbers, tomatoes, and a runny kind of yoghurt. That’s it.
These meals are interrupted by green bean soup. I never even tasted green bean soup. But we have it one day in 3. It breaks up the red bean menu. Same supporting cast though—bread, cucumbers and tomatoes, and yoghurt.
Listen, I am from the Midwest, which means I can’t insult the chef no matter what poisonous concoction he has prepared. But I think he is going to kill me. I am trying to figure a way to introduce peanut butter sandwiches to the menu without insulting the poor guy. And in fairness, when you turn the cleaner into the cook, I guess you are asking for trouble.
In the meantime, it’s red beans. No rice. No sausage. Just beans. Geez. It ain't tasting good going down, and it ain't smelling good coming out. And it ain't so good in between. I used to report on the lunch discussions, but I now have such an aversion to the beans, I really can’t concentrate on anything else…..sorry.
We are changing cooks in 2 weeks. If I survive, I will start reporting on what people are talking about. Until then, don’t get between me and the bathroom.
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