Secret Weakness for the Exotic

...or maybe not so secret.

Consider this a special interest story. I (Eric) have been fairly silent on the blog front while I've been working, but we're enjoying a brief break right now visiting Rachel's mom, and so I thought I'd chip in with something to say. That is, anything to say.

A couple weeks ago in Chinle, I came to an important self-revelation, a weakness for the exotic, to the point of nonsense. Case in point: We head to the grocery and need to choose a coffee creamer. "Parisian Almond Creme" one reads. Ooh, let's get that one. Never mind that it's really just almond flavored. No, no, I say. What about the Parisian? What about the exotic spelling of "creme"?

In truth, I am publicly letting you all in on an easy way to impress me. Have us over for dinner. Serve us spaghetti. Tell me it's a Maltese pasta. I mean, odds are that they have some kind of marinara pasta in Malta somewhere, right? Yet I'm enthralled. Serve me rice and beans, but make sure that you let me know that it's in the style of the Nepalese peasantry. Ooh, really? They eat it plain and without spices? How exotic! Mix together whatever random ingredients that are leftover in your kitchen, and call it Tajik potpurri. Wow, fascinating taste! Give it a name, and I am quite sure that I'll be able to taste the cultural nuances.

Even if they're not there.