The first breakfast I had there I piled up tomatoes on my plate because I'm a big fan of tomatoes since Egypt days (Egypt's tomatoes are so so good) and I thought well they're pretty much next door so Jordan's tomatoes must be as good, yeah?
But to my horror them tomatoes were sour. The old kind of sour. I felt betrayed, like the chef stabbed me with the fork I was eating with. I barely swallowed the piece I chewed and I gave up on the rest of them. My mood was sullen. Why was the tomatoes sour? How could they do this to me? Gone were my hopes and dreams of reliving my days in Egypt by having sweet tomatoes for breakfast. This was so wrong. I got up and had toast for breakfast instead, still complaining. My travelmate chuckled disbelieved at my mini outburst but being the person who usually bottles her emotions and reserves them for only important stuffs I felt I had every right to be emotional about tomatoes.
Enough to say I didn't touch any tomatoes for the remainder of my stay. I actually glared at them every morning I pass them at the breakfast buffet. Goodness this kid held vengeance.
But to my horror them tomatoes were sour. The old kind of sour. I felt betrayed, like the chef stabbed me with the fork I was eating with. I barely swallowed the piece I chewed and I gave up on the rest of them. My mood was sullen. Why was the tomatoes sour? How could they do this to me? Gone were my hopes and dreams of reliving my days in Egypt by having sweet tomatoes for breakfast. This was so wrong. I got up and had toast for breakfast instead, still complaining. My travelmate chuckled disbelieved at my mini outburst but being the person who usually bottles her emotions and reserves them for only important stuffs I felt I had every right to be emotional about tomatoes.
Enough to say I didn't touch any tomatoes for the remainder of my stay. I actually glared at them every morning I pass them at the breakfast buffet. Goodness this kid held vengeance.
