I have developed this insatiable hankering for Banh Mi sandwich. Banh Mi means baguette in Vietnamese. The crunch of the pickles and the pleasing tang of the cilantro that gets me every time. I discovered a vegan variety a few weeks ago at the recently opened Wild Leek and now I have been high tailing it there every chance I get. It is almost a problem.
My Banh Mi budget is almost exceeding my regular, everything else budget.
The other evening, I went to another place called Indochine. They too specialize in Banh Mi sandwiches. As I staggered towards the restaurant door with my friend in the pouring rain, I almost tripped over myself getting to the counter. The saliva was forming and I could almost taste the crunch and savour the sour ting of it on my lips. As I raced to order yet another Banh Mi sandwich, my friend exclaimed that it was a soup kind of night.
Silently, I curled around my Banh Mi sandwich thoughts with a protectiveness that bordered on churlish.
She pointed out that there was a half Banh Mi and a soup option. I relented, yes, soup probably would be good too. It was chilly. I was chilled. For all of Banh Mi sandwich's other redeeming qualities, warming someone up was not one of them.
And you know what? That soup was terrific. It cooled my Banh Mi feverishness as it warmed my belly. It was like a vegetable nourished saline that slowed down my heart rate and kept my blood sugar steady enough that I could concentrate on what turned out to be a very inspiring conversation.
As I ate, the soup slowed me up. It revived me in a way that a Banh Mi sandwich on its own, wolfed down in 6 bites, would not have. I need to eat slower. Fast eating is clouding my judgement and impairing my conversation skills. Instead of cramming phrases in between bites, I had soup to pace my times listening, thinking and contributing. As a bonus, I enjoyed the half Banh Mi sandwich even more than usual. The soup stabilized me for the Banh Mi. For the sake of my happiness and my pancreas and my friendships, I am going to order and make soup more often.
My Banh Mi budget is almost exceeding my regular, everything else budget.
The other evening, I went to another place called Indochine. They too specialize in Banh Mi sandwiches. As I staggered towards the restaurant door with my friend in the pouring rain, I almost tripped over myself getting to the counter. The saliva was forming and I could almost taste the crunch and savour the sour ting of it on my lips. As I raced to order yet another Banh Mi sandwich, my friend exclaimed that it was a soup kind of night.
She pointed out that there was a half Banh Mi and a soup option. I relented, yes, soup probably would be good too. It was chilly. I was chilled. For all of Banh Mi sandwich's other redeeming qualities, warming someone up was not one of them.
And you know what? That soup was terrific. It cooled my Banh Mi feverishness as it warmed my belly. It was like a vegetable nourished saline that slowed down my heart rate and kept my blood sugar steady enough that I could concentrate on what turned out to be a very inspiring conversation.
As I ate, the soup slowed me up. It revived me in a way that a Banh Mi sandwich on its own, wolfed down in 6 bites, would not have. I need to eat slower. Fast eating is clouding my judgement and impairing my conversation skills. Instead of cramming phrases in between bites, I had soup to pace my times listening, thinking and contributing. As a bonus, I enjoyed the half Banh Mi sandwich even more than usual. The soup stabilized me for the Banh Mi. For the sake of my happiness and my pancreas and my friendships, I am going to order and make soup more often.
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