Ben was the one to brave the grocery store on Saturday. Do I always send Ben out to do the hard stuff? (Humm...mow the lawn, shovel the walk, take out that incredibly stinky garbage, go find a whole list of needed items in a foreign store where overzealous sales clerks harass you on every other aisle...still not enough data to prove a solid pattern of behavior.) Besides, I had a critical job to do at home: our shipment arrived on Friday and everything needed to be organized :)
I failed to emphasize to Ben that my grocery list was in fact a wish list and I didn't really except him to find half of it. But being the results-driven, get-it-done kind of man that he is, it turned out to be a stressful trip for him, ending with a sense of failure, which in turn made me feel badly about not having communicated expectations clearly.
Despite not finding mint, cilantro, canned tuna, felt furniture sliders or any baby-proofing door locks, Ben did come home with a lovely supply of exotic fruits and we dined on the best smoothy ever! This middle photo shows the source of what I had only ever known as a lotion scent or candy flavor: passion fruit. And all of us really, really like it :)
This last photo shows another cultural experience: due to the kind insistence of a frozen-foods aisle sales clerk from my previous Saturday's grocery store run, I ended up with a bag of frozen pork parts for us to eat. After a whole week of avoidance, we deemed it time to consume this typical Taiwanese "waste no part of the animal" meal. To be honest, it took a lot of will power and a whole lot of rice to get it down my throat. We threw in a few pot stickers in the mix to distract us from the view, but there was no denying the palette texture of grizzle and tendons and who knows what else that was stuck to those bone pieces (help me out here Mark, my anatomy pro brother-in-law!)
Theo actually liked it. This poor child has lost a bit of weight these past couple of weeks (in part from having a cold, in part from us not finding his normal half-n-half / whole milk mixture diet). So there was something very primal instinctual about digging in for the bone morrow with my chopsticks and feeding it to my hungry baby. It felt good. And he agreed it was.
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