As many of you know, my Japanese, high school foreign-exchange student spent three weeks with me. Toko prefers eating American food while here, particularly beef, due to its high price in Tokyo. She also likes my meager attempt at spaghetti and meatballs, meat loaf, and barbecued ribs. (Of course, I prefer she not cook because every meat dish includes a minimum of 1 cup of sugar! Disgusting.)
Last week I wrote about her proclivity for mayonnaise; this week I pronounced her a certified mayo addict. She even had the audacity to put Duke’s on fresh, steamed broccoli from my garden. “Sue, do you know how to make potato salad?’
Obvious. I grew up in Ohio where summer, Sunday picnics always included some form of potato salad. Over the years, I eventually learned how to tweak my recipe. She took copious notes as I prepared it. Before it chilled, she tasted it and loved it.
That night we had barbecued, baby back, pork ribs and my creamy concoction made with three different mayos. While we were eating, “Sue, do you have any rolls?”
“No. I rarely buy bread. Why?”
“Just get some tomorrow for lunch.” I obeyed.
“Sue, lunch is ready. I made a Japanese lunch.”
Oh, dear gawd! Spare me. I sat down at the table. A sandwich–hopefully ham and cheese without Duke’s. “What’s this?”
“A Japanese delicacy: Potato salad sandwich.”
I tore off a small piece; the wad of roll and potato didn’t do it for me. “Have the rest of mine, Toko.”
Now, if you doubters don’t believe me, look it up on your computer.