I have been eating as much as possible and it seems to me to be the right thing, as it’s all odd immigrant childhood foods, undeniable and irresistible and full of history as well as calories.
Made many trips out in NYC this week for these tempting things, like al jjiggae, which is a hot spicy stew made from veiny pollack roe sacs which float in the red soup looking ethereal and alien. It’s really AI, that is what I picture, these weird beings kept in water to divine the future. I can’t tell my fortune from these fish eggs but I ate enough of them beneath a massive waterfall with a white grand piano on top. No one played the piano as it was too early in the day.
Also went to a fancy Japanese bakery for rice cakes with red bean paste and even splurged on a gorgeous box of white peach bean paste bon bons. The box is almost gone now, after several days of cooing and pondering each gooey piece. The woman at the bakery said “20 days” and handed me the heavy box of rice peach wonders then said “1 or 2 days” as she packed up the individual cakes which were way too many for one person. What did she know?
Near the bakery there’s an underground izakaya with pollack roe spaghetti which I fantasized about while eating the good yaki gyoza and drinking a big “grass” of sake. They sell it by the “grass”, which I don’t know why but seeing that misspelling made me laugh just as much as I would if I was a kid. “grass”. Some things never go out of style. Or “styre”.