On Beans

I really like baked beans. Well, to be totally honest, I really like baked beans from a can, with the shrivelled bit of bacon suspended somewhere in the middle and a few extra tablespoons of brown sugar to make it even better. Left alone, a perfectly acceptable dinner would be hot dogs (sliced, no bun) and baked beans. Vegetables if I remembered them. British beans (whatever it is they give you at breakfast for...your toast?) come in at a pretty decent second. No, third, because I can't abandon my refried beans.

That being said, I'm going to miss natto. I remember getting it in LA for that sushi competition, so I'm not concerned that I'll never see it again, but I'm going to miss the variety here. I've found my favorite (large beans, non-offensive odor--really!), and I know it'll be one of the many things I'll crave when I go home.

Yesterday I had dinner (nabe) at a vegan's house. Said Vegan is pretty awesome because he invites me (through G) quite often, even though we never reciprocate and host anything ourselves. And it made me even more aware that I don't need to have meat at dinner. I was sated, and the closest thing I ate to meat was probably a potato. Or a mushroom. No point to that, I just wanted to remind myself that food doesn't always mean meat.