We have two sorts of rice on hand, white rice and brown rice. When I cook, I make white rice. When Joe cooks, he makes brown rice.
I never really liked brown rice. It just doesn’t absorbs sauces as well, and the impermeable barrier of the grains just creates a mealy battle on the palate when I’m eating it with something not dry/with sauce, which is almost everything I eat. Sometimes I will heat up soup, and throw in leftover brown rice, just to use it up, which tastes terrible. Sucks the joy of eating like a black hole.
However, through an accident of sheer laziness, I have discovered a way to enjoy eating brown rice. I microwaved some leftover brown rice on a plate, and hadn’t sprinkled water on it, which is what you’re supposed to when you nuke rice. I took a bite, and it was good. It was chewy, nutty, almost crunchy, slightly reminiscent of crusty rice crackers from the bottom. The trick is to eat it dry, even plain, without anything else.
Brown rice is a prima donna/diva soloist. She doesn’t play nicely with the others on a team. Hogs up the spotlight by herself, even if she is a bit of plain jane. But that’s OK now. I now appreciate her for what she is.
On the gardening front: I picked the first strawberries yesterday. And found a wild/stray arugula. Unfortunately I realised this after I pulled it out. I’ve replanted in a pot on our porch. It it takes root again, we’ll have salad handy.