Tastes Like Chicken

When visiting a foreign country, you may not always know what you are eating, and it's possible to eat something that is not at all what you think it is. This happened to me yesterday at lunch time. I visited the cafeteria of the univeristy I am working with in Milan and saw a breaded cutlet of some kind. The server said it was chicken, which may be what they tell all Americans who inquire. One bite and I knew it was definitely not chicken. Three bites later, I still did not know what it was. But it tasted pretty good, and as anyone who knows me knows that is often the only criteria I need to proceed. Although I did not know it at the time, that is where the trouble began.

By the time the day was over, I was feeling bloated and uncomfortable and had an unfortuate taste in my mouth. This did not prevent me from visiting Duomo Plaza and having a thoroughly enjoyable (and more regonizable) dinner last night. But, by the time we got back to the hotel, I was unable to sleep as my belly prepared for full rebellion.

At the time, I thought it was merely the coffee content of the tiramisu. By the time I posted my last posting, though, I suspected it was something else entirely.

After a rough night of tossing and turning, I got up int he morning and attempted to go about my business. Breakfast did not sit well, and I was sluggish and unfocused during the morning's work and could not even stomach water.

I had a blissfully simple lunch of baked fish and steamed spinach and even a little soda to settle my belly. And, about 24 hours later, I was fine again. Which goes to show that even the school cafeteria in Milan has its own variety of mystery meat.