Western Food in the East

24 eggs, 3 litres of White Vinegar, 1/2 a pack of cloves, 1/4 of whole black pepper and you have pickled eggs. Now to see if I can wait a few weeks before eating them...
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So what is one to do when confronted with a lack of dining options that one has become accustomed to by 28 years of consumption? One takes small steps into cooking.

While I did take 3 years of cooking classes 11 years ago, much of that knowledge has escaped me. I figure with 6 months left here and my bank account showing a healthy balance, I might as well start to dabble in the culinary arts perfected by my recent visitors.

It started innocently enough. I was hungry, but I was tired of noodles and rice. I wanted something different. Something hard to find here.

I wanted a sandwich.

You would think that something as simple as a sandwich would surely be easy to acquire. After all, the ingredients are basis of it is on the quick and easy side. The reality is that honest, unsweetened bread is not easy to come by. Bread here is code for sponge cake as far as I can tell. I have tried many versions of "bread": Mexico bread, California bread, Russian bread, and some that didn't have any English on them.

At last, one fateful day while my stomach was itching for something different, I found it. Whole wheat bread. It didn't look much like the whole grain that I am used to seeing in Canada. However it didn't look sweet, A key thing when making the consummate delicatessen delight.

I got it home, along with my other fresh ingredients attained mostly from the "import" shelf from the most unholy of shopping marts. (Walmart and I don't get along at the best of times)

I made it home, barely containing my trepidation for what was surely to be yet another let down in the attainment of western cuisine. I gingerly open my purchase like a kid at Christmas. I let my olfactory sense take first stab. No hint of sweet yet. I take a small bite. Hallelujah! Regular bread. My heart cries with joy.

My mouth does somersaults and my stomach swims in joy as I consume what is probably the best B.L.T that has ever been prepared on this side of the International Date Line.