Another day of not being hungry. This really is unprecedented. Don't worry, folks, I ate, and plenty. It was just something I had to remember to do, rather than something I constantly thought about and desired, which is the usual status quo.*

The result of not-being-hungry is that I don't really want to cook, so I just eat what's already available. I made fabulous french toast** for Malka this morning (in town after sending her father off to the airport lasternight) and had it with peanut butter--new brand, I'm so sick of Kraft--bananas and kithul palm syrup. It was pleasantly sweet and salty. Then the rest of the day I ate dried fruit (thanks Aunt Leona!) and Craisins (thanks Mom! also a fruit but bears separate mention) and Curd-with-Treacle (thanks Jill!). As Gerrit notes, that sounds absolutely awful. It's not. It's basically thick tart creamy yogurt with maple syrup. Except the yogurt is made from water buffalo milk and the maple syrup is from kithul palms. It sounds better in Sinhala: kiri pani.

So I basically ate sugar, all day. This makes me think of Mina, the five-year-old daughter of the Senior Fulbright couple down the street. This is Yvonne and Judee, the people I lived with when at first I couldn't find an apartment. They are wonderful. Mina is at that stage where food that has any flavor is excruciatingly gross, except for sugar. This kid is a pro at negotiating for sugar on, in, and with every food. She eats rice with sugar, noodles with sugar, mashed potatoes with sugar, water with sugar. When she says, "sugar," lights shine in her cute little five-year-old eyes, and she smiles like she's made of it.

Well, I'm not, and I don't think it's helping the nasty cold. (Also sounds better in Sinhala: hembrissawak.) Tomorrow it's back to broth with four cloves of garlic and a tablespoon of chilli flakes.

*is that redundant? grammar police?
**is french toast French? or is it Belgian like fries?

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