Hungry, Indignant


Hot sauce.

I like condiments. I don’t think any food is complete without the addition of at least three sauces. I once came home from working in the computer lab on my useless mathematics degree to open an empty fridge except a loosely wrapped pile of corn tortillas and a door full of mustards, hot sauces, and wasabi ketchups. That was fine. Protein be damned! I made myself a peanut butter, mayo, chipotle, wasabi, curry wrap. It was delish.


I wish it were societally acceptable to eat meals of condiments. My latest purchase of french fries was complimented nicely with a mix of 10 different mustards. I used the fries as ladles to spoon the mixture of mustards into my mouth. It was delish.

Peanut Sauce.

The reason sauces are so good is because there is such variety. And what happens when you mix two sauces? You get a new sauce. Neat. Any sauce goes with any other sauce. No sauces are necessary to be separated. Sauces are the food equivalent to integration, and what better time to talk about integration than days after MILK Jr. Day. I say MILK Jr. because I think the man would appreciate being compared to a typical ingredient in condiments. Though condiments are able to be mixed, they also maintain their ethnic origins in terms of taste. Like if you add peanut sauce and ketchup together it tastes like Indian American food. It’s delish.


This is how we should treat race. You should mate with someone of a different race but maintain a vibrant understanding of where you come from. Let’s sauce up our diversity!


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