Ryan likes bad tasting food, and that's how it is. He thinks all Italian food is infused with "baby spit up flavor", that bread and cake are "dry and disgusting", and that cookies taste better with whole wheat flour. I rest my case.
Perhaps this is why he is unable to retain more than ten percent body fat.
I, however, am not confused about what delicious is. Italian food (done right) is delicious. Cookies are delicious when made with white flour, white sugar, and lots of butter. In fact, they taste best made with Crisco, which is a cryin' shame.
Indian food is delicious. Really, really delicious.
But Ryan claims he doesn't like it. I took him to a Fabulous Indian Lunch Buffet in my hometown on Bethesda, Maryland, and he claimed it was "bland, salty mush". We have had other excellent Indian food offered to us on other occasions with similar response. I think his tastebuds are broken.
Yesterday I went to lunch with all of my coworkers to bid farewell to Kate, the best thing to ever happen to the organization (I told her I thought she should run her own non-profit because she has such mad skillz, and I think she thought I was kidding [probably because I spelled skillz with a z] but I wasn't. She is made for the big time, I'm tellin' you.). We went to a restaurant called The Himalayan Kitchen and had their lunch buffet. It was transcendent. Most of the dishes were vegetarian (I'll just pretend not to notice that half of them included a sauce made with heavy cream) and it was affordable. I ate until I was quite ill. It was lovely.
Today, my little brother, fellow frequenter of the Fabulous Indian Lunch Buffet in Bethesda, was in Salt Lake en route to his appointment to be a lab rat. I knew I had to get me some more of that Himalayan Kitchen, and that Hosen was my only chance, since Ryan would, clearly, not be interested. I invited Hosen and, to my great surprise, Ryan jumped into the conversation. He wanted to join in the fun.
When we arrived, Ryan saw the sign outside that said Himalayan Kitchen: Nepalese Cuisine, and proceeded to spend twenty minutes trying to convince my brother to join him for a trek in the Himalayas. The sign transported him to a phase in life where he spent long hour poring over guide books and pining for his chance to stand on top of the world. He kept talking about how great Nepal was. And then he hit the buffet. The Nepalese buffet.
He ate with a vengeance and proclaimed it the best food he had ever tasted. Mind you, it was Indian food, the same kind he has defamed so many times. But today it was Nepalese food, so it was his favorite.
I will never pretend to understand Ryan, but he is a delight. If you ever want him to join you for a meal of gnocchi with pesto, or a baguette with warm brie, just tell him the food is from Nepal. Chances are he won't know the difference.