DANCE OF THE RICE PEOPLE

It’s true my wife hates rice, there I finally said it.  I often wonder if she will come to terms with the rice people.  I have asked numerous times over our 30-year relationship, what is it about rice that makes her so crazy?  She has yet to give me a firm answer.  It seems so strange for her to have such an aversion to the short grains of goodness but she does.  She is not prejudice against any one type of rice.  She hates all rice.  The brown varieties, white, long grain, wild.  It is all suspect and she simple refuses to allow it in her eating space. 

It seems as if some cultures just cannot accept her aversion to the rice people. For years when we have “ese” food, you know Chinese, Japanese, Taiwanese, she makes one simple request, no rice.  This seems like a simple request but you might be surprised to find, it is not.  The Chinese restaurant we frequent has known for years she does not eat the rice people.  Even thou they can recant every single item we eat from memory, from the hot and sour soup to each entrée without us muttering a word.  They simply cannot remember to skip the rice.  We know they are going to forget so we all brace ourselves for the arrival of the white starchy dome of perfectly formed pile of rice.  This is when the dance of the rice people begins.  My wife tries hard to ignore the fact they have once again placed it on her plate.  The server says, “oh I forgot to leave rice off your plate, is that okay?”  My wife tries hard to not explode and has even said at times it is okay but really she is thinking, “are you kidding me?” One time when the server asked if it was okay I could no longer hold my tongue.  I firmly and lets be honest aggressively said, “no, it is not okay we eat here all the time and yet you cannot remember to bring her entrée without rice, it is not okay now take it back and bring it out without one grain of rice.”  The server stood there looking at me with her head slightly bowed and smiling.  I could not believe my eyes, was she really smiling at the crazy man making such a big deal over rice.  I later learned in the Asian culture when embarrassed they bow their head and smile indicating embarrassment and humility for the error.  I admit when I learned this fun fact I did feel like the biggest asshole on planet earth. I mean really it is only rice. 

It was at that moment I realized my family had waged a war against the rice people, all in the name of my wife.  Mind you my son and I eat rice and rather enjoy all varieties. This means we cannot share foods with rice accompaniments. A rogue grain of rice might jump on the food and attempt to enter my wife’s mouth if we were to share food.  I am unclear what might happen if one fine grain of rice escaped and ended up in her body. 

You may be laughing at this point saying to yourself, “is he really writing about this phenomenon known as the dance of the rice people?” Well the truth of the matter is, yes I am writing about it.  It has become hard wired into the very fiber of our family, no rice for Shelly. This fun fact is as well known as the fact her favorite cake is German Chocolate. 

I have queried her mother numerous times about the rice issue.  I wondered if perhaps a rice kernel had attacked her as a child.  Perhaps she was forced to eat only rice for a year.  Maybe she grew up working in an “ese” restaurant and could no longer look at rice.  My mother in law can remember no run ins with rice that would preclude my wife from eating it.  She actually even offered up my wife would eat creamed rice as a child.  She is as perplexed by this hard line as anyone.   

You might wonder why after 30 years of being together and married 27 of those years I have finally opted to speak of this family secret.  Well, this week we carried out from a new restaurant called “The Gyro Place.”  Thinking Greek food would be safe we placed our order.  She selected the fajita bowl from the massive menu.  I know really a Greek restaurant had a fajita bowl, but they do.  She arrived home with our carry out order and we were all doing the food dance, which quickly turned into the dance of the rice people.  She popped the lid on the Styrofoam container to find a big glob of Spanish rice placed perfectly on the top of her entrée.  The room quickly came to a suffocating silent halt.  Shit, the rice people were in the room. We knew they arrived even thou not one word was uttered.  She simply closed the lid and left the room.  I spent the next 10 minutes trying to remove each grain.  She returned to the kitchen and encouraged us to eat stating she was fine. We knew she was not fine.  The intruders were in the house and had jumped on her dinner.  She meticulously picked each grain of rice from the container, as if someone had sprinkled poison on her food.  Actually I think she would be more amenable to sucking down poison. 

I hope for her well being that one-day she can make peace with the thin grains of goodness.  I don’t hold out much hope.  She is screwed if she ever finds herself on “Survivor” that is a main staple on the show.  Something tells me she would make herself a nice bowl of mud pie soup and hope for the best.  I dream of a day when they name her condition, rice-a-phobic and she attends a rice haters recovery meeting and I hear her say, “hello I am Shelly and I am a recovering rice hater”, and hearing the group reflect back, “welcome Shelly.”