Have I mentioned that food is a particular weakness of mine? (This is why I’m portly instead of puny.) Keeping kosher outside the home is going to be a big struggle for me, I can tell, because bastard smell molecules waft into the air like they own the place and make me hungry for things. Today it was fries with gravy. These may be the last fries with gravy I eat, given that I don’t have a deep-fryer and you can’t get decent fries in Israel unless an Arab makes them (Israelis seem to think cold, soggy fries are tasty, for some inexplicable reason; I blame knee-jerk rejectionism of anything British), and I’ve never seen fries with gravy available in Israel anywhere.
Which sucks, because they were bad fries with gravy, really. But as long as I keep working here, and I keep having to go into the staff cafeteria to get cutlery to eat lunch (I’m fairly ideologically opposed to using plastic cutlery on the regular), this is going to keep happening. I guess I’m going to have to start carrying cutlery back and forth with me in my work bag. And hoping that rogue smells don’t ambush me.