Let’s be honest, if you’re from North America (which doesn’t include Mexico in this instance and barely includes Canada) you consider exotic food to be shit like a nacho combo at the movies or, in a pinch, an Irish coffee. Most of us aren’t all big on the cuisine of other countries and if we are, it’s shameful cuisine. Spaghetti, the bastard son of Italy, or sweet and sour chicken balls, which don’t even really exist in mainland China because everyone’s afraid of avian influenza. And don’t even get started on what Taco Bell does to Mexican cuisine. Mexico doesn’t even have cuisine anymore thanks to that swine flu. Now all they have are tortillas and economical prostitutes. Just like Canada.
But there are foreign foods out that all aflutter with deliciousness that you need to try. Maybe you already have, but for the sake of argument we’re assuming you’re a trailer person with a tape worm and a penchant for Mr. Noodles or, on special occasions like anniversaries and funerals, macaroni and cheese (white cheddar at funerals). Let us take your taste buds and your eyes too, lest you be unable to read this as we don’t do streaming audio, on a culinary romp through paradise. Let us seduce your mouth until you open wide and take all we have to offer, including that blatant and unsubtle innuendo. Come now!
From the land of moose and their knuckles we offer you the most sumptuous feast of heart clogging shit that will make you breathe heavy for a solid two hours that you have ever had; poutine. It’s deliciousness is visible from space, just like Kanye West’s ego. That sentence didn’t even make sense and it doesn’t need to because poutine is so fucking good my boner is making it hard for me to type right now. Believe it.
Poutine is French fries with cheese curds and gravy. More or less. There’s debate out there about just what sauce goes on the fries, but believe it when we say brown gravy works great. And some low lifes will try to assuage your gluttonous lust for cheese with shredded cheese, but those people are probably Communists or artists and are not worth a piss in the wind. You need fresh cheese curds. From there, one simply sprinkles the curds upon the hot fries, and then you douse the mixture in gravy. Just lace into it with that hot,salty goo. Do it. Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. Gravy it up.
Sound disgusting? Who cares, eat it anyway. In 1987 it became Federal law that all Canadian citizens eat one poutine per months, at least, or be slapped across the mouth by anyone and everyone who wants to. And you can’t complain. It’s the fucking law. Poutine is just delicious.
Americans often don’t understand poutine because the fry+gravy combo never made it there for some reason. There’s a mental block that forbids 80% of Americans from even understanding it let alone enjoying it. You can drown a goddamn boatload of mashed potatoes in gravy, but fry that potato and try to gravy it and half the population of Iowa looks at you like you just shat a live mouse into a coffee cup and got it to whistle a little tune. All you need to know is that it is awesome and one of only 13 things that Canada ever produced that you should put in your mouth. None of them are maple syrup, incidentally. Maple syrup is ass.
Sensory Equivalent – If Guns N Roses (circa 1992), Simon and Garfunkle, The Ramones and Prince (Purple Rain era) were merged in a gamma radiation mishap into one singular being of musical awesomeness and it cut an album and on that album it covered AC/DC tunes, it would be like poutine.
The Middle East
Because relations with our Arabic friends are still strained after these many
years, we offer an olive branch of humble tasty goodness in the form of shawarma. The way to attain world peace and end racism may be by having everyone have dirty, vulgar sex with a hot person from every ethnicity on earth until we all realized people are basically good and boneable. But barring the practicality of that idea, food can be a mediocre substitute. How can you hate anyone who makes shawarma? You can’t. It’s a pita, it’s some tahini, a little onion, a little tomato, some tasty as fuck chicken shaved off some ludicrous spit of chicken meat and a little spicing, some pickles and pickled turnip if you’re man enough and voila, it’s like the fertile crescent just popped a squat on your face and blessed you with awesomeness.
Sensory Equivalent – Waking up to the smell of fresh baked bread if the entire bakery were inexplicably located inside a vagina. And you liked that kind of thing. Whether or not this resembles a yeast infection is debatable.
Many people accustomed to eating nothing but ranch dressing and chicken fingers would be hard pressed to name any kind of Indian food and less
willing to eat it for fear of rampant curry trots. It’s a sad fact of life that food your stomach isn’t used to will simply not stay in your stomach long. Your stomach is a xenophobic asshole and will push anything it is unfamiliar with right out the back door.
In a delightful merger of Indian cuisine and North American desire for anything that will clog an artery there’s Pakora, it’s deep fried something or other and it’s so awesome you’d punch a nun for it. Right in her nun face. It can be made from chicken, onion, potato, cauliflower or really whatever shit seems to be laying around the kitchen. Then you batter it and fry it the way Jesus intended (which can be attested to in Deuteronomy 3:6 – Lo, thou shalt deep fry that shit because I am Jesus and I like it hot and salty).
Sensory Equivalent – Like getting kicked in the crotch, only the exact opposite and then having busty nurses in latex uniforms hug you on a waterslide. The world’s awesomest water slide.
We’re all pretty familiar with Chinese food, unless we’re Chinese in which case the shit served at Chinese restaurants is probably mindblowing as it has as much to do with China as grape jelly does with masturbation, which is to say
they cross paths occasionally, but not often.
However, eschewing the standard Chinese fare, there’s a whole bloody world of Asian food most people miss out on. Food from places like Thailand and Vietnam, where they scoff at deep fried chicken balls and will fist you if you even suggest making Peking duck. Actually fist you. So don’t suggest it.
What Vietnam does have (and is inexplicably served in a lot of Thai restaurants) is fresh rolls, or summer rolls. There’s as simple as Dane Cook but they’re also delightful while Dane Cook is nothing but an asshat. Goddamn him.
In a nutshell, a fresh roll is some thin rice paper filled with rice vermicelli noodles and veggies like cucumber, lettuce, carrot, maybe some mint or bean sprouts and, sometimes if you’re weird, seafood. Unlike that shite in Chinese cuisine they’re not fried, they’re served cold, ideally with a bit of a spicy peanut sauce, and they will make you spooge. No word of a lie, they’re that delicious.
Sensory Equivalent – Witnessing a game of Twister between Angelina Jolie, Scarlett Johanssen and Jessica Biel in which all three end up coated in canola oil and naked against a backdrop of the Star Wars prequels if they had been created by a competent writer and director instead of a mouth breathing lazy buffoon like George Lucas.
Because we’re going to call fresh roll Vietnamese to throw Ho Chi Minh a bone (that wasn’t racist, just ignorant) we’ll use Thailand to school you on the best thing to happen to noodles since Marco Polo invented spaghetti
while having sex with 19 year old twins in a Buick Le Sabre. That happened, ask your teachers.
Thailand is home to pad thai. Apparently all food in Thailand has to have “Thai” in the name, or it was just a wicked coincidence. .Whatever. The point is, pad thai is awesome. Awesomer still is that the city of Bangkok is in Thailand and even though you may be an adult that name can still make you giggle like a schoolgirl drinking Zima. Plus there’s lots of whores there. But human trafficking and sex tourism is an awful problem in society and needs to be stopped. Incidentally, thanks for making this part of the article a downer. Fucker.
Sensory Equivalent – Going back in time in some kind of hyper-metaphysical manner and being able to physically embody the first guy who ever touched a boob at the moment of contact.