Wednesday, February 10th, 2021

Lunch appears in a bag from a general Asian restaurant near here. The bosses have ordered in. It’s a coworker’s birthday. My eggroll is pretty good. It comes with a slightly spicy duck sauce. The salmon, however, is disappointing. It consists of little bits of salmon in blobs of dough. I think they’re supposed to be light and fluffy. They aren’t. Most of the bowl is filled with salad. Most of the salad is dry chopped cabbage. It comes with a salad dressing that seems to be a mishmash of miso and mayonnaise. I eat the salad. I suppose it has good fiber. The boss comes around and asks how it is. I tell him. He knows that I tend to tell the truth, but that I also tend to like things. His lunch was similar. The chicken ranged between barely cooked and burnt, without ever hitting the right point in between. The coworker across the aisle says that you just can’t get real Japanese food here. His son lives in Japan and has tried to find their food when he has come to visit. What there is doesn’t work. The bosses have ordered good food before. The usual shawarma is excellent. The best was roasted chicken with a lot of roast vegetables. We got that once. I will always remember it. When I go down to the supermarket later in the afternoon, I pick up a package of chopsticks to keep in my desk. None came with lunch. I won’t be caught without them again.