Fire Queen

Yesterday I went...wait for it...wait for it...grocery shopping. OK, so pretty much for the past 6 weeks I have gone grocery shopping every day, but shopping is a true adventure and yesterday was a true milestone.

When I entered this grocery store the first time, I felt like I had landed on Planet Tokyo. Everything looked different, even the vegetables. All the labels were in Hiragana or Katakana, so I couldn't read them--instead I had to study the pictures on the labels to see if I could figure out the item or what you would use it for (Oh! Is that Tony the Tiger!! I think this is Frosted Flakes). The meat comes packaged in small 200 gram portions and very thinly sliced. My head instantly hurt. It actually felt like I was taking the SATs: How many grams in a pound? How much is 3,000 Yen and is it enough? How many thin slices of meat can be smooshed together to create a hamburger? If one train leaves the station at 9 AM going 45 mph carrying a bushel of apples and the other train leaves station B at 11:30 going 60 miles per hour....

"Honey," I said to my husband in a panic. "I think I need a #2 pencil."
My husband, who did much better on his SATs than myself, did all the shopping that night.

The second time I went grocery shopping, I was a sucker for anything--any box, any liquid, any thing, that had English written on it.
"Hey, Mom," my son said. "What's for dinner?"
I held up a box with bold English letters.
"We're having TACO KIT and we're drinking AQUARIUS." I actually don't know what Aquarius means, but it is a cool song.

"Hey, Mom," my son said the next night. "What's for dinner?"
"Dinner," I answered. "Seriously, the label on the box says DINNER."
The DINNER spice mix was actually curry. Hot curry. Hot hot curry. Very hot, hot, hot curry.

"Hey, Mom," my son said after he took his first bite. "I think from now on, I'll call you Fire Queen."

The next time I went grocery shopping, I confidently filled a basket with vegetables, bought 400 grams of thinly-sliced chicken, and a bag of rice. I also closed my eyes and randomly picked out a liquid of black sauce. I was hoping for soy sauce, but it easily could have been dark corn syrup. Or Cola.
"Hey, Mom," my son said. "What's for dinner?"
"Stir fry," I answered.
"Didn't we have that last night?"
"No, son," I answered. "Last night we had Chicken, Broccoli, Snow Peas and Mushrooms over Rice with a Soy/Corn/Cola Sauce."
My son looked at me. "What's the difference?"
I looked at him. "The name."

But yesterday, with 6 weeks of education and experience under my belt, I passed the Grocery Store Test. I can now identify and appreciate many of the ingredients. I know where to find what I need and how many grams to buy. I can buy the appropriate weight to carry home by myself. And, thanks to a cooking class, I can read the soy sauce label and serve at least one non-curry dinner Japanese style-lots of smaller dishes filled with tasty, fresh, healthy food.

Mr. Miyagi, I believe I have earned the rank of orange belt.