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I have now caught my second cold in two months. This is the most sickly I have ever been in my life. If I was in one of the books I read when I was a kid, I would go to a beautiful sanitarium in the Alps to recover by lounging around reading and strolling among the wildflowers for the next six months. I resent that I am not a character in one of those books.
Instead, a chance reference I came across while looking up something else led me to try to visit an Indonesian market instead of Ralph's. (I have never had Indonesian food, as every time I hear about an Indonesian restaurant, it goes out of business before I can try it.) If I'd realized it was at the evil, hard to get to corner of National and Palms, I probably wouldn't have tried, but since I thought it was much closer I headed out, and then had to go way, way out of my way because the road dead-ended, and then I had to drive around a golf course. However, the market was great. Also, there was an Indonesian restaurant across the street, which I have now doomed by my plan to return to it.
I bought five boxes of black sesame-flavored Pocky (Japanese cookie sticks) because it's my favorite and has been discontinued so God knows when I'll ever see it again, two of sweet (I think) soy-favored Pocky ("Please enjoy the fragrant flavor of soybean flour'), and one of Bretagne caramel-flavored Pocky. Also a dented can of chicory coffee, a jar of Nutella, and, from the refrigerator, a dish of nasi goreng (beef with kimchi, apparently), a dish of sticky black rice puddding with coconut milk to pour over it, and sticky rice in lotus leaves, apparently stuffed with chicken. And a mysterious coconut pudding sweet.
I did not get, but could have gotten, avocado juice, durian cookies, durian cake, durian wafers, and canned mangosteen, as I've heard it's really inferior to fresh. But no star anise. Darn.
The store next door was even odder, being distinctly run-down yet filled with odd and sometimes upscale imported items. It had tons of products from Italy and Armenia, halvah bars (I got the vanilla), Moxie and some sodas I'd never heard of, organic licorice, a deli, buffalo jerky, framed photos of LA scenery going for $ 75 each, and hand-written signs exhorting us to place our relationship with God first, our relationship with our spouse second, our relationship with our kids third, and our job fourth. Personally, I am glad that many doctors, firefighters, lawyers, police officers, artists, and writers ignore all that and place their jobs first. However, I can't criticise that store too hard because, in their imported spices from Mexico, they had a packet of star anise for 63 cents.
Incidentally, I did skim off the red-simmered fat, and used it to fry two eggs. The results-- subtly red-spiced eggs-- were surprisingly good.
Instead, a chance reference I came across while looking up something else led me to try to visit an Indonesian market instead of Ralph's. (I have never had Indonesian food, as every time I hear about an Indonesian restaurant, it goes out of business before I can try it.) If I'd realized it was at the evil, hard to get to corner of National and Palms, I probably wouldn't have tried, but since I thought it was much closer I headed out, and then had to go way, way out of my way because the road dead-ended, and then I had to drive around a golf course. However, the market was great. Also, there was an Indonesian restaurant across the street, which I have now doomed by my plan to return to it.
I bought five boxes of black sesame-flavored Pocky (Japanese cookie sticks) because it's my favorite and has been discontinued so God knows when I'll ever see it again, two of sweet (I think) soy-favored Pocky ("Please enjoy the fragrant flavor of soybean flour'), and one of Bretagne caramel-flavored Pocky. Also a dented can of chicory coffee, a jar of Nutella, and, from the refrigerator, a dish of nasi goreng (beef with kimchi, apparently), a dish of sticky black rice puddding with coconut milk to pour over it, and sticky rice in lotus leaves, apparently stuffed with chicken. And a mysterious coconut pudding sweet.
I did not get, but could have gotten, avocado juice, durian cookies, durian cake, durian wafers, and canned mangosteen, as I've heard it's really inferior to fresh. But no star anise. Darn.
The store next door was even odder, being distinctly run-down yet filled with odd and sometimes upscale imported items. It had tons of products from Italy and Armenia, halvah bars (I got the vanilla), Moxie and some sodas I'd never heard of, organic licorice, a deli, buffalo jerky, framed photos of LA scenery going for $ 75 each, and hand-written signs exhorting us to place our relationship with God first, our relationship with our spouse second, our relationship with our kids third, and our job fourth. Personally, I am glad that many doctors, firefighters, lawyers, police officers, artists, and writers ignore all that and place their jobs first. However, I can't criticise that store too hard because, in their imported spices from Mexico, they had a packet of star anise for 63 cents.
Incidentally, I did skim off the red-simmered fat, and used it to fry two eggs. The results-- subtly red-spiced eggs-- were surprisingly good.