No Imagination

The Midwest has no ethnic food. I am convinced. Fortunately, my mother is an excellent woman and mailed me delicious sweet chili sauce. [This delightful sauce has, in the past, made claims to be ideal with "chicken, pork, shirmp," etc. Shirmp? Shirmp. For the record, and aside from the sketchy label, this stuff has no preservatives and is delicious.] On my trip out here, I packed rice noodles instead of another pair of shoes. I can't get a ride to the store for fresh tomatoes, mint, cucumber, lime or lettuce, but my friend is willing to sacrifice a basil plant for our dinner.

Digging through the communal spice cupboard, I season the chicken with salt, pepper, lemon peel, and accidentally too much garlic powder. A few hours prior, I sliced some onion to create a fresh pickle - sugar dissolved in hot water, white vinegar, salt + whatever vegetables look tasty [only a lone onion is available in my case].

Noodles, sweet chili sauce, chicken, topped with fresh basil and my lightly pickled onions. 100% better than Saga.