Today I stumbled upon something called Foie gras on the internet.
Wikipedia defines it as-
A luxury food product made of the liver of a duck or goose that has been especially fattened. By French law, foie gras is defined as the liver of a duck or goose fattened by force-feeding corn with a feeding tube, a process also known as gavage.
Here’s one more reason why we humans are still classified as “animals” rather than something progressive like “The engineers” or “The centurions”. I mean, I love meat but common man! What’s next? Camel dick? If any Foie gras lover finds this post offensive, consider this an open invitation to email me your place of choice to meetup. I will fight you. Wait a second, for a moment I thought this was Reddit. Sorry for the aggressive behaviour.
This meal was consumed in one sitting, at my glorious bachelor pad, while watching a YouTube video on how to design airport runways. Some people might say that I’ve hit a new low, but I beg to differ. It depends on how you look at it. For example, if you completely avoid looking at the screen and listen to this amazing piece I recorded the other day, you would say I’m a success.
On the other hand, if you prefer to judge people based on their eating habits, you my friend, have hit a new low.
Everyone knows you have to be very careful while walking into a teenager’s room unannounced, because you never know what you might run into. One would hope that you mature with age. But when I walked in on my colleague chewing on this shit, I couldn’t help but pause for a moment.
It made me think about the weird ways some people find pleasure in doing the strangest things. What is it about human nature that finds it amusing to torture yourself to a point where, pure, eye-watering pain turns into pleasure? I know we are a species of explorers, one that strives to break barriers and reach new horizons but, dude! What are you trying to do? Cook your tongue?
As a meat enthusiast, I tend to overlook, basically everything that is healthy. So this is my journey into the art of fruit-eating, after moving to North India. When I think about having a fruit, the first thing that comes to mind is a mango, because lets be honest, a mango is what paradise tastes like, not an apple, that shit sucks. But here’s the thing about mangoes. You have to pick the right one, there are so many, unnecessary kinds of mangoes out there. You have to wash it, peel it. You have to make sure there are no worms in it. Such a waste of time. I’m talkin, “raising a child”, kind of effort to eat a mango. Think about it. With all the time and energy you’ve wasted eating mangoes, you could have easily raised a child. I know…I’m blowing your mind right now. This is why I don’t have any friends. Anyway, my life changed the other day when I tried these
They are called lychees. I know, everyone knows. They taste like fruit from an alien planet. Remember that scene in Avatar, where the guy tastes the alien fruit for the first time? The movie sucked bigtime but the fruit was kickass. I imagine it would have tasted something like this. What blew my mind is, there’s no work involved in eating these things. You make a crack in the shell and then pop it into your mouth. Then enjoy as paradise melts. Now, guys, isn’t that the way life is supposed to be? Simple and satisfying? Am I asking for too much here? So kids, what I’m really trying to say is, a lychee is still a great tasting fruit without all the complexities. Be like lychee. Somehow I wish my ex-girlfriend was like that.
Being the adventurous go-getter that I am, I paid a visit to the “floating market” on Sunday. The idea of the floating market is simple. Basically, you pay extra to buy groceries from boats. It kind of makes sense. There’s no entry fee. So you get to enjoy the sights for free, if you want to.
The Floating Market, Kolkata
My sole purpose of visiting the market was to chill, like this guy.
You order takeout. That’s what you need to do. Or go to your favourite restaurant and eat till you have to loosen your belt. Because you deserve it. You earned it. You can trust me (I can cut my own hair). Also, while you are at it, try to learn from your mistakes, you know, that sort of thing. My weekend didn’t go that well. Then it dawned on me to eat a nice burger. The very thought of eating my favourite burger was in itself an uplifting experience. In all seriousness though, don’t sweat at the small things. Life is much bigger than that, like a whole fried chicken. Enjoy life/bacon while you can. Also, don’t forget ice cream. That shit is literally happiness in frozen form.
Now, listen to this tasty jam I made
Have you seen busy-people wake up on a Tuesday morning and immediately check their mail to see if they’ve got anything important, like an appointment with a client or a review-session for a research paper? Well, today morning I got a mail from Domino’s. It said, “we use real cheese”. I said, “okay. I believe you. I’ve never doubted you for a second”. And then I wrote this poem:
Domino’s and me
I like Domino’s
Domino’s likes me
I have liver problems
Domino’s still, likes me
Sometimes the cheese tastes different
But Domino’s likes me
I go to the gym
Domino’s is close to the gym
I work out a lot
Domino’s doesn’t care
3 days of workout= 1 day of Domino’s
Who gives a shit?
Because Dominos, still likes me
Stay tuned for my next one, “I have a dream. A Burger King dream”