I don’t like it. She either didn’t remember or did it on purpose. Either way I ate it and didn’t say anything.

There are only two foods in Japan, arguably in the world, I don’t like: Sweet omelets which are an everyday abomination served along side sushi, and Oshiruko, a kind of soup made from sweetened red beans and rice cakes. Oshiruko is a Japanese new year’s tradition but it reminds me of manju that’s been eaten and then puked up. (Note: I’m not sure why I don’t like it, but I think it’s because, at first glance, it looks like baked beans. It is not baked beans, though, and I guess my brain can’t handle that.) I’m also not a huge fan of mochi, the rice cakes served in the manju vomit. These are rectangular bits of chewy rice paste that Japanese consider to be a form of food.

Tonight, for reasons I don’t understand, She Who Must Be Obeyed served oshiruko  and mochi for supper. This wouldn’t bother me except it was the main dish. The side dish was a vegetable and sausage stir fry. This left me with a dilemma: do I order pizza and risk the wrath of SWMBO or do I eat it and say it was delicious and then cook something else.

I opted for the latter, sort of, as that is my husbandly duty (In sickness and in health; for better and for crappy food. It’s there; look it up.) I didn’t cook, but I did supplement with some cheese and a banana.

That got some attention, though, which may or may not be a good thing.