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Message: [QUOTE="ClifSpliffy, post: 4490311, member: 9260"] [I]While i have enjoyed curried goat in a village in Jamaica,[/I] ok, this brought back a funny memory, having to do with my affinity for the noble cheese sammich. anytime i travel outside our nifty fifty, it's always not long before i crack and have to hit a super or such to get some normal and familiar food, and away from such delicacies like fried warthog offal sauteed in a delicate bernaise, or that lovely 'charcutery' (really, really don't like that word. seemingly, it only pops up in places east of the Hudson and south of mt greylock.) with pickled monkey brains and smoked giraffe horns. so, hanging around Jamaica for a few weeks, based mostly in Ocho Rios, i'd only been there for a few days before my local cuisine meter hit "enough!' time to find a stop and shop! (that never works almost anywhere in crapistans). things were sketchy in the big towns there (they always are) and i was warned off going to MBay to find stuff. say what? im from Bridgeport, so forget that. i find something that looks like a store (usual world crowd outside of it - 'got change? got change? and im pretty sure leprosy is still around), i go in, and find [I]it -[/I] a normal bread, a block of normal cheese, it looked like velveeta or some kind of cheddar, and a jar of helman's. i jump back in the car with my pals, who never left the car becuz they were not from Bridgeport, rip the bread, whack off a chunk of cheese, add the mayo, and party on. now im set for the adventures ahead becuz i got my staples -cheese, bread, yogurt, under my control back at the villa in chez overpriced. within a nanosecond, those car people were like 'that looks good, don't hide it, divide it.' Jamaica, part deux deux. new local pal tries to discourage my typical interest in getting out there and all up in it. let's head for the hills, i say. he sez, not good, mon, gets weird up there. off we go. he insists on driving. 'hill preachers, voodoo doctors, aki -here we come!' at a typical crapistan location, where 2 dirt roads intersect, ubiquitous drink seller on a corner, stop signs, we're stopped and a teenager (mebbe not, mebbe 12) tosses a gallon sized ziploc full of cocaine, thru my open window, and onto my lap (bud sez, 'told u mon, up here it gets weird'). i freak abit, immediately wing it back at him after making certain it was closed as it would have gone from bad to worse if it spilled out all over the place, and now some posse would try to chase us to make good. he floors it, we roll out, and i say a prayer. people often ask me whistfully, aboot some far off place id been and they always hoped to go. i always say 'u ain't missing nuthin. just watch that natgeo Amazon River thing on ur jumbotron, grab some snacks, be thankful that u won't be getting the runs in aboot 5 minutes, leave ur wallet on the coffee table, and thank the good lord that a [I]vastly [/I]superior drink of water is right there, at the end of ur hosepipe. that's a really big sorepoint for me, the fact that almost everywhere not here, the water really, really, sucks. bigtime. imma water Rockafeller. foreign stuff, except mebbe in north Italy or that Van place near the caucuses, really, really blows chunks. wears u out. i'd rather be in Arkansas. note: when im in charge, the coffee is always chock full o nuts, folgers, 8 o'clock, or maxwell house and such. it's good to the last drop, and them folks been doing it for over a century, so they got it down right. [/QUOTE]

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