Death Dish

I have a system for picking foods, and I believe I've outlined the nature of its functioning sufficiently well. It will be enough for me to repeat that it works fairly well. Only once that I can think of offhand has my gift for selection so abandoned me that it was necessary to turn my back on something I had gotten at the grocery store before consuming it. I allow that there must have been others, but I can only recall it being the case when I decided that the largest container of generic tabasco-like sauce would flavor my dinner of rice for the foreseeable future. I nonetheless retained it until I ended up moving away and could not justify bringing it to the new place.

Now, I may have noted that early in the process of making cheap, plentiful and bland rice into the perennial cornerstone of my dinner plans that soy sauce was an early companion to the mighty grain. It was recently my recollection that I had enjoyed that, and would do well to go with it again if only for a short time. I had just moved into my new place, and had no food to speak of. I thought I'd acquire a few very cheap things to sustain myself during the tumult. I bought bread, second rate individual sliced cheese, third rate bologna and soy sauce to go with rice I did have at home. The bologna and cheese sandwiches were a surprise hit, really striking a chord with me. I enjoyed them so much that they spilled over from the lunch hour into both dinner and breakfast. It was then the case that I only in the last couple of days reached for the rice and soy sauce.

I don't care for that pairing at all, I've decided, and there's no animal speaking in convoluted rhyme to change my mind on that. I don't believe that I shall ever like that, and is that any surprise? I'm sure that it's not meant to be eaten exclusive of anything else, and certainly not in such proportions and I am inclined towards. I'm afraid that I am quite likely to forsake that store brand light soy sauce, and accept that the dollar and a half which bought it was badly wasted. I don't know if I'll return to a more reliable favorite or go exploring, but I'm sure that the soy sauce will do me in if given the opportunity. Even now I watch it jostling and sloshing by my computer as I type; it hears me and sees me. It will wait for a lapse in my attention or resolve, and then end me.

Maybe the spaghetti sauce/mexican hot sauce formulation is the way to go. I earlier gave thought to the baked beans which had been a pleasant change of pace, but I'm not so sure of that. When full, the idea nauseates me. I wonder whether the days of rice-based dinners are through for me, and weep at the prospect of having to turn to materials which don't come so cheaply or in such great quantities. I never would have thought it possible, but the deadly, brackish fluid has really wreaked some terrible havoc in my kitchen. We'll see how it goes. The thunderhead clouds may part in the guilty bottle's absence.