Japanese Rice

Today I went to the store to pick up a few things, and decided that I needed to buy some stuff for the week so I wouldn’t have to make multiple trips. Because we are trying hard to be frugal, we are making our lunches and trying to eat in, which means that stuff disappears from my fridge faster than I would normally expect it to. Also, because of the diet, I am eating more vegetables. I know that just eating more vegetables in general helps weight loss, but this really forces me to do it.

I found myself picking up a lot of things I haven’t made in a while but love — bean sprouts, napa cabbage, swiss chard and mushrooms, along with our standard onions/peppers/tomatoes, and I thought, this is why this diet works. It forces you to go out and vary your vegetable intake. I also stocked up on fish, shrimp and chicken and apple sausage (my favorite!) because again, I hardly believe that I can lose weight while chowing down on steak. What this has done, however, is force me to quit sugar, and I must say that although the bakery department was torture for me, my cravings are not as bad today. I have given up sweets before and the first week is always hell.

Of course, I can’t stop thinking about carbs, however, and rice and bread haunt my dreams. To make things worse, Marti started looking up Toshiba rice cookers, because he accidentally destroyed my brand new one LeeAnn brought me from Japan (sorry LeeAnn, I didn’t want to tell you!). Anyway, we found some rice cookers but the price was in Japanese, so he showed me…
and
they
were
$1000.

“You have got to be kidding me,” was my unimaginative reply.

Then we found this article by mobile ojisan about the Japanese and their obsession with rice, rice as status, etc. etc. And I was reminded of this little experience:

A few days ago I went shopping at the farmer’s market, which has a fishmonger and a ton of Asian food and where, naturally, I buy my rice, because I am a little picky about my rice (nearly three years in Japan does that to a person). I like a particular brand that is a little more expensive but is an actual Japanese brand, and I found it there in a 20 pound bag. Well, a quick calculation showed that this was wayyyy cheaper than the 5 pound bags I had been buying, so I threw the bag over my shoulder and continued to shop. A Chinese man appeared from out of the woodwork and asked if I needed help. I said no (I have seen him before — he’s not known for his customer service). He said, “No, no, no, I carry rice for you,” and gently lifted the rice from my shoulder like a precious infant. He carried it straight to a closed cash register (there were long lines at the others) where a female cashier was still standing. He thumped the rice on the conveyor belt and looked at her. “But I’m closed!” she protested. “This is very special customer. You open for her,” he replied in a commanding tone. I tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor as he proceeded to bag all of my groceries (there were a lot, even though I wasn’t quite done shopping) and carry six or seven bags to the door. “I carry to your car,” he said, rice over his shoulder. There was no room for argument. I shut my mouth and followed, pointing to the car, and he placed everything gently into my trunk before saying good-bye and walking away. Shaking my head, I got in my car and went home.

The moral of the story: You want good service at an Asian establishment, buy the good rice.

Now if only I could eat it. But, I feel pretty good and I’ve lost a couple pounds already, so we’ll see what happens. I am watching my nutritional intake very carefully. Must…beat…weight problem….