You remember me belleeakin’ about how Fahim likes his veggies cooked to the point of dead and downright mushy and I prefer mine still a little, well, not quite crunchy, but still full of life, vim, and vigor?
I finally clued in today that I could take mine out when I’m happy, and leave his to die a mushy death.
Yeah, I may be smart, but sometimes, my swiftness overpowers me.
So I made beet curry – with potatoes, onion, garlic, green chiles and seasoning type stuff. I was content with the doneness at about 15 or 20 minutes. So I took mine out. And I kept cooking his.
Fifteen minutes later, I take out a piece of beet – the potatoes were definitely done, but the beets still were a little hard – and asked Fahim to test it and tell me if it was done yet.
Nope.
Five minutes later.
Nope.
Another five minutes after that.
Nope.
And so on and so forth until finally, at about 40 or 45 minutes after I’d taken my veggies out, the rest were finally dead and mushy enough for Fahim.
OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!
Yeah, I should’a started doing this months ago.
Segregated food.
You know, it’s bad enough when ya have racism. But now we have vegism.
