The Ajinomoto Life of a Self-Confessed Fast Food Boy
For the past few weeks, I have racked my brains off trying to develop a log template using a specialized mining software that I learned how to use, but have sadly forgotten, ten months ago. After a thorough review of the software’s manual, I realized that the procedure for creating the template is quite simple, assuming that the raw data one will use is nearly flawless and error-free. Otherwise, this template task will be an endless loop fest of revisions, corrections, sweat, tears, snot, and near insanity. Scanning through the MS Excel spreadsheets that contain our data, I soon realized that a great deal of editing is in order. Shucks, the very thing that I was dreading of is hovering under my nose. Somehow, hysterical wailing and fainting spells appear to be more attractive alternatives to the former.
I have to admit that I’ve stalled on this task for as long as I could remember. Although I’m fully aware of the impending urgency for this template (my officemate informed me that they absolutely need my input by the end of the week), I have somehow managed to fulfill all sorts of things, like buying salted peanuts in the cafeteria, for example, as a sorry excuse to procrastinate. No, I’m not the superstitious kind; I don’t believe that eating nitrogen-rich underground legumes will sharpen my mind to accomplish this template task. If this was true, Albert Einsten would have bowed his head in shame given the massive amounts of peanut butter and Growers® nuts that I’ve consumed in my lifetime. The thing is, when I’m under a great deal of stress, I tend to channel it through my jaw muscles. In short, I munch on anything to cope. Well, it’s no wonder why I gained so much weight since I started working a year and five months ago. But then again, I’m also fond of making sorry excuses.
Feeling helpless a few days ago, I trooped to the company cafeteria and bought a small bag of peanuts. Each bag costs a staggering twenty pesos, and if not were for my desperation, I wouldn’t have agreed to such bad, overpriced deal. And so a few moments after, I picked on the peanuts as I stared blankly at the computer monitor for what seemed like forever, hoping that God Almighty or even Mama Mary would help me out of my predicament. As the familiar gritty and salty sensations tickled my taste buds, I had the comforting feeling that the peanuts, at least, were doing me some good. Well, that was until I decided to observe one legume in better detail.
Holding a single peanut firmly between my right thumb and forefinger, I noticed that it glistened with vegetable oil, boasting of a perfect, golden brown color. Reeking of garlicky aroma, the legume was unable to hide the real reason why it has become irresistible to the palate: bits of white crystals were adhered on its slick surface. Majority of these crystals are unmistakably salt due to their round and stubby appearance. Now that explains the saltiness. However, why do pre-packed peanuts taste so good? Closer inspection reveals another type of crystal that has a more elongated shape and tapered appearance. This foreign substance has made many bland Chinese restaurants flourish, has forced a lot of us to be unwitting captives to Jack and Jill junk foods, and when used as a lacing agent to hotdogs or any other meat, has murdered countless loyal pooches who guard their masters’ homes with gusto. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking about monosodium glutamate (MSG).
When I was a kid, I would run petty errands for a stick of cigarette, a few eggs, a sachet of conditioner, and of course, a packet of MSG. In those days, the adults don’t actually ask you to purchase MSG. They simply have to say “Ajinomoto” and somehow, you’re pretty sure that it’s the “sugary” stuff that they want. Back then, I would ask why they keep adding MSG to food and I kept getting the same response: “to make the dish more delicious.” Although the health consequences of habitual MSG use have not been verified medically up until today, my mom has nevertheless abandoned MSG use in her cooking for a few years now. That’s why whenever I stay in our house during extended vacations, I end up complaining that our food “lacks character.”
My taste has definitely evolved to adapt to the Ajinomoto life that thrives in the big city. As a self-confessed fast food boy, I’m sure I get my fair share of MSG from my steady diet of hamburgers and Chicken Joy. In my personal food pyramid, Cheetos® and potato chips probably occupy the portion intended for “green, leafy vegetables.” Time and again, I have vowed to stay away from fast and junk food. But like a typical topsy turvy junkie who ends up swallowing all his rubbish and bull sh*t, I end up going back for more. Maybe it doesn’t help that I live in a place where a nearby Jollibee and Mc Donald’s outlets are open for 24 hours. Heck, in my workplace, there are four fast food outlets – Jollibee, Chowking, Deli France, and Greenwich – from across the street. Tony Tan Caktiong (CEO of Jollibee Foods Corporation) may be Ernst & Young’s 2004 World Entrepreneur of the Year but for me, he’s one bad, bad man. Again, I have this shameless fondness for making bad excuses.
In a previous blog entry, I have discussed how certain circumstances led me to pray again. Admittedly, prayer has had positive effects in me. Lately, I have noticed that I sleep better now, and there’s a sense of calm when I wake up. However, it was a different story last weekend. See, I joined two of my friends for a jogging session at the Academic Oval of UP Diliman. A full round of running in the oval is roughly 2.2 kms, and we decided to finish three rounds. Even after months of virtual inactivity, I managed to run the whole first round without stopping. However, somewhere between CASAA and the AS Steps, I felt the world around me getting hazy. Catching my breath and acknowledging defeat, I decided to stop and walk for the rest of the way.
On our way home, my friends were hungry already and decided to grab a quick bite. The nearest place with decent food is in Philcoa, and we settled for a “meal” consisting of Quarter Pounders, fries, and Diet Coke at Mc Donald’s. After that, I passed by another friend’s house where I was treated to a canister of MSG-laden Planter’s® Cheese Curls before going home. That same night, I dreamed about a girl who I haven’t seen in a long time. In that dream, I was a spectator in an Olympic swimming competition. She was the lone Filipino entry amid the stunning brunettes and statuesque blonde Caucasians who rule the sport. The moment the pistol was fired, she leapt into the air like a gazelle and glided through the water like a mermaid. In a few effortless strokes, she made the finish line, beating the world record by five full seconds!
I found myself at the end of her lane and offered my hand to pick her up from the water. With a smile (I was surprised by that, honestly), she accepted my kind gesture. The moment she made it on ground, she removed her swim cap and proceeded to sprinkle my face with droplets of water as she shook her lovely, fragrant hair. Eyeing her opponents with a half turn of her head, it was so damn obvious that she devoured the whole competition from the first nanosecond. And then, as if by magic, she clutched a gold medal the size of a small platter that dangled pendulously in front of my eyes. As if in a hypnotic trance, I stood there transfixed, marveling at her dominance and swimsuit-clad beauty. Then like a slap delivered in light speed, she eyed me contemptuously and snickered, “Eat your heart out, Fast Food Boy!”
I woke up that instant and shook my head from the absurdity of the whole thing. And yes, I still blame fast food, and while we’re at it, I guess I’ll fault the MSG as well.
