Yesterday I ate at the hospital cafeteria. Got chicken marsala. It looked delicious: buttery sauce, pasta, breaded chicken, and mushrooms. It was not delicious. You’d think that at 26 years old I’d have learned by now that just because something looks good doesn’t mean it tastes good. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve bought the sushi at Costco like a dozen times. Anyway, apparently cheap marsala is like cheap sushi—possibly a distant relative to the more pricy version that tastes like it’s from an entirely different food group. A food group they don’t bother to include it in the pyramid because nobody should ever eat it. If I were expensive marsala I’d be ticked because my second cousin once removed was leaving a bad taste in people’s mouths with my name attached.
Med student by day, med student by night. Occasional blogger.
Things I don't understand: music or pictures that are new but that are made to sound/look old and dancing.
Things I understand: running and charcoal barbecues.