Globalisation: I make a meal of it every noon. It is, so to speak, a set menu of mine.
Italian salami from Denmark and/or liver pâté from New Zealand plus Virginia ham or German bierwurst with whole-wheat bread or so-called butter-French bread from Yamazaki, the well-known Thai bakery.
To go with that, Thai tomato slices and half a dozen Spanish pitted green olives, or PRC-canned Paris mushrooms when I feel like using a can opener.
Then camembert cheese from New Zealand and/or salmon-flavoured processed cheese from Austria.
For dessert, a Filipino banana and/or an orange from either Australia or California or Israel depending on the purchase source. (On no account an orange or any other fruit from China: luscious looks, no taste, and probably plenty of chemicals.)
Followed, of course, by Japanese-roasted Kilimanjaro.
All of this in Bangkok, in the year of their Lord 2553.
The whole collation, noon in noon out, taxi fares to Foodland or Tops Pin Klao and back included, boils down to just about the price of a p’tit noir sur le zinc in Vaison la Romaine or three noodle meals round the corner or half a cup of lemon tea at the Hilton.
All right, tonight I’ll have leftover tuna spaghetti with frankfurters, in between gulps of Greek ouzo, υγειά! No, I’m joking: my pet poison is pastis, natürlich.
Did you say rice? Oh yes, that too, and mangoes in season, which is now.