Thursday, December 01, 2016


A friend called me last night, asked what I was doing.
“I’m about to eat this Tufu Soup I went and got at the Papaya Garden”
“Tofu soup? Man, thats out there” he says.
“I know, I got to do something. I been feeling like crap, my blood sugar is through the roof these days. I’m upping my medicine every day, but cant seem to get caught up.”
My friend offers some advice.
‘You should change your diet. Its one of the hardest things to change. My doctor (blah, blah, blah) and my sister (blah, blah, blah) and so I switched to having just fruit for breakfast and I’m eating a lot of weird salads now”
I let there be a good 6-8 second pause, and let him have it, very softly:
“Well, my friend, what do you think is up with me and the Tofu Soup?”

"If one day you become sick of words, as happens to us all, and you grow tired of hearing them, of saying them; if whichever you choose seems worn out, dull, disabled; if you feel nauseated when you hear 'horrible' or 'divine' for some everyday occurrence - you'll not be cured, obviously, by alphabet soup.

You must do the following: cook a plate of al dente spaghetti dressed with the simplest seasoning - garlic, oil and chili. Over the pasta toss in this mixture, grate a layer of Parmesan cheese. To the right of the deep plate full of the spaghetti thus prepared, place an open book. To the left, place an open book. In front of it a full glass of red wine. Any other company is not recommended. Turn the pages of each book at random, but they must both be poetry. Only good poets cure us of an overindulgence in words. Only simple essential food cures us of gluttony."
 - Héctor Abad Faciolince
Recipes for Sad Women
live & learn

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