#23: Eat flan (and read bloopers in the loo)
I know, I know. You’re starting to think this blog is getting pretty lame, what with me just getting away with eating new things and counting that as something new and all. But this was totally and completely unplanned! I had a business lunch at Rosa Mexicano, which I’ve been meaning to try for a while but my wallet hasn’t really been up for it. They’re guacamole is fantastic, by the way. I’d go back just for that . . . and the flan.
It wouldn’t be accurate for me to say that I’ve never eaten flan before. Or rather, that I’ve never tried to eat flan before. I’ve made the attempt . . . but I’ve never been able to follow through. I’m what they call a “texture” person. I can’t really explain what that texture is exactly—it’s the slimey-ness of a banana, the oozy-ness of a kiwi, the slippery-ness of Jell-O. I know that makes me sound like a picky eater but beyond those three things I can think of little else that I won’t eat. And even then, I’ll eat bananas in bread or in Runts any day!
So, it’s true that I’ve encountered flan in the past. And it wasn’t pleasant. No, it was more like “Wow, that looks fantastic and caramel-y and yum!” but “No, no, no! It feels like ectoplasm on my tongue, bleh!” usually followed. Not so this time. It was creamy and Despite Tom Sietsema’s opinion that the flan is too dense, I quite enjoyed myself. Thomas Head seems to like it too. Perhaps I’m just dense flan girl and it is all that other loosey-goosey flan that wasn’t for me. Who’s to know?
I think there’s something about the noon hour that makes dessert seem more scrumptious and bewitching. It feels slightly illicit and that always makes things seem just a little better, now doesn’t it? And who doesn’t love to go back to the office talking about the great “flahn” one had as a treat during lunch break? (Click that link, by the way, it is hilarious. Just do it. Clicking the little “play” button triggers some dude modeling the proper pronunciation of flan. I don’t know why such things tickle me so but they do.)
I bet you think I just made up the flan thing on a whim, don’t you? Well, the proof is in the pudding: my very first blog post featured a comment from my pal Jones, suggesting that I (and I quote) “eat flan.” Check! AS to the fingernail clipping collection: well, that’s just not going to happen. Sorry, bud.
Lest you not be convinced that having flan is enough—even a damn good flan at that, and even when you see that it was indeed on my “to do” list prior to today—, I submit to you another something else new that I did today. I read bloopers in the bathroom. That’s right, doozies like: “Man Shot in Back, Head Found in Street.” No, I wasn’t hiding out in the office toilet with the funnies—I was using the facilities at the Newseum which features tiles etched with flubbed headlines of yesteryear in its stalls. I haven’t toured the museum exhibitions yet but, if the ladies room is any indicator, I’m sure the place is worth the $20 “seems-steep-in-a-town-full-of-free-museums” entrance fee.
Lesson learned: If at first you don’t like flan, try and try again.