Food for too much thought

There was one egg left in the refrigerator. I felt groggy, but despite this drew upon some (for me) remarkable inner resources,and decisively grabbed the egg. I cracked it in the fry pan and closed my eyes to the warm image of a fried egg on toast filling my mind with a sort of serene joy.

looking down into the pan (see below) I yelped.

hmm


Holy mother-of-nothing, my egg was purple magenta around its edge. I swear, these days things go wrong in the smallest and absurdist of ways frequently enough I’m wondering where the camera is, and this was just another example. I mean…wha? My housemates were very impressed/amused/incredulous until Kyle mentioned maybe that was the pan he cooked ginger and garlic curry in last night. It’s jar stuff, and kinda bright, but I still was suspicious. I mean, if it was the curry paste, what does magenta have to do with “ginger,” “garlic” or “curry” anyway?

I ate the egg. It was my best fried egg in months.

...

Later in the day I went to the hospital cafeteria on campus to meet my friend Y. for lunch. The lady in the back was cooking about four gallons of canned green peas on a griddle. hm. something new. New techniques for a new millennium, I'm guessing.

Sitting down finally with Y. we got to eating, him a salad too (new to the States, he seems to like the salad bar). Lifting something curiously on his fork he asks, “What is this?” A wet, purple-magenta disk hung in his tines....

a slice of pickled beet.

ok, so maybe not all magenta food is so bad after all.