One of the downsides of traveling often to Asian and obviously eating all the wondrous food over there is that I’m left with nothing once I come back. For sure there’s many varieties of Asian cuisine available here in the States, but they naturally fall far short in comparison to the real McCoy. I’ve yet to eat a meal of Korean food since I’ve came back from Seoul a month and half ago, because I know I shall be disappointed.
And it’s not like I’m trying to be an asshole or super snob about it; if friends invite me out to eat and it happens to Chinese food I’m not going to decline on the principle of the food here not measuring up to the same dish I’ve had in Hong Kong. That would be rude. A misfortune regarding the Asian continent is that it’s literally on the other side of the planet, making traveling to an immense effort in planning and monetary exertion.
Which is why I’ve come and must tolerate the Asian food in San Francisco, because really, what option have I got? Certainly not ‘baller’ enough to be jetting to Asian every few months, nor have the requisite time-off from work. Perhaps an existential employment purpose of mine is to be one of those working digital nomads that can travel anywhere. Then I can be in Asian at any moment I desire. Hashtag goals, as the kids say these days.
Non sequitur: I’m currently on the third book of a three volume set on Winston Churchill by the late William Manchester. It’s really getting into the meat of the action, as the book commences with the advent of Churchill finally assuming the Prime Minister position, and Hitler about to blitz into France. Excited to chew through it all.