Yesterday afternoon, Jac sent me a text message: “What do you want for dinner?” I texted back: “Something with chicken and vegies. No preference whitey or asian”*. When I got home after 6pm something smelled good in the kitchen. It was the big pot of chicken stew Jac was cooking. Oh, it was really goooooood. I devoured a big bowl of it. I forgot to ask her how she cooked it (she made it up, no recipe as such), and she’s out right now, so I’ll have to ask her later.
*Whitey is my personal slang term meaning non-asian. It’s not meant to be derogatory in any way. I use it mostly in relation to food. When we feel hungry one of the first things we try to work out is whether we feel like whitey or asian food. In our household we eat both on a regular basis.
Typical pre-dinner discussion:
tfp: I’m hungry!
Jac: What do you feel like?
tfp: Hmmm…. something with meat.
Jac: Whitey or asian?
tfp: Asian, I think.
Jac: Ok, so what meat do you feel like?
tfp: Well, definitely not red meat… something chicken or pork… do we have any pork mince?
tfp: Do we have any potatoes?
tfp: Could we cook minchee?
Jac: Yep, easy!
Jac, who is herself a whitey, uses the term all the time. She is a great cook of both whitey and asian food.