The Great Tomato Dilemma

One of the things I miss about life in the States is the food. Don't get me wrong there are some tasty dishes here, but overall I enjoy the food back home a lot more. There are a few meals from our repertoire that we have been able to reproduce with a reasonable degree of accuracy. One that I happen to love is home made pasta sauce. It's great with both eggplant parmesan and plain pasta.

At some point, several months into our stay in Taiwan, we got sick of referring to stores by locations and descriptions, so we gave then all American names. The only local store that stocks the rather critical canned tomatoes is known as "Whole Foods" because the sign is green and it's expensive.

Several months ago I grabbed several cans and was about to throw them in the cart when I noticed something wrong... both cans were dented. A memory flashed into my mind... My mother and I were standing in the grocery store and she was telling me, "never buy dented cans." So I of course put the cans back and grabbed two different ones. No! These were dented too! I frantically began digging through every can on the shelf. Every single one was dented! Panic began to grip me. "How will I make the sauce?!?!" Then I tried to think rationally. "Get ahold of yourself!" I said. "I'm sure they will get more."

A few weeks later I went back to Whole Foods. I immediately ran to the canned tomato section and began tearing through them. No! There were no new cans. A wave of despair began to sweep over me, but then I realized that I just had to suck it up and weather this storm.

For the next few weeks this scene was repeated. My hopes were cruelly dashed every time. Then one day I had an idea. I of course realized that the reason they weren't ordering more was because there were twelve cans on the shelf. "What if I just bought them all and threw them away?" I wondered. "Then they would buy more... No, that would be a waste of money. I need a better plan." As the gears in my mind continued to turn, I formulated a plan so devious and sneaky that I just couldn't carry it out and left the store.

The next time I returned, I thought of the plan again, and began to consider it more seriously. "What if I hid the dented cans randomly around the store? Then they would see that they are out and order more!" I picked up an armload of cans. I hesitated. I put them back and walked away. While contemplating which of the 57 varieties of soy sauce I should purchase, the thought came to me again. I was getting desperate. I really wanted that sauce. With a look of determination in my eye I strode back to the tomato section, grabbed a bunch of cans, and headed to the "baking" section. I feigned interest in a tin of roasted eel while a lady next to me agonized over which mystery sauce she wanted. (Which is really only a mystery to those who can't read Chinese.) Finally she picked up a bottle and headed off to another aisle. I looked over my shoulder to check for employees then quickly bent down and carefully placed the tomato cans at the back of the coconut cream shelf. "No one will ever find those." I thought to myself as I quickly headed back to the tomato section for another armload.

Heather walked around the corner just as I was stashing another couple cans behind some peanut milk soup. She looked at me and laughed. "Are you really hiding tomatoes?" she asked, laughing. "Yes", I said, deadly serious.

I am happy to report that several weeks later my genius plan was confirmed successful. They have fresh cans! Yes!!! Heather and I have now resumed our steady diet of delicious homemade sauce. What can I say? Desperate times call for desperate measures.