As a Korean-American foodie who resides in West Oakland, I’m lucky that there’s a slew of fine eateries not too far from our home all along Telegraph Avenue in Temescal.
Look at me, I’m eating peas. I’m nearly 40 years old and I’m eating peas. Who says middle-aged men don’t have growth spurts?
I never cared for peas as a child. Perhaps that’s too mildly put. I had always hated peas. No, still not enough. I had a terror of peas as a child.
That’s more like it.
I would not touch them, I hated looking at them, and I certainly would never eat them. If I saw them on television, I would either cover my eyes or run from the room, just as I did anytime I saw two people kissing. Peas,for no good reason, caused me acute emotional distress. When it was beef stew night in our household, I thought my mother was making it specifically to torture me.