I lived in a community of progressive neo-hippies in Davis, CA. “Neo-hippies” you ask? After living with this crowd, vegans become vegetarians become freegans, feminists get drunk and hook up with misogynists, and “normal” starts to look pretty fucking weird.
We ate communally, as is the tradition, and opened our community up to whoever wanted to take the plunge. This past summer, an Argentine(inian) visiting post-doc started coming around. A delightful woman, she was continuing her research on hummingbirds and most of her English was related to her field. She was also a stellar cook and brought bomber desserts to dinner.
One evening, she came to dinner with a dish that I identified at the time as flan. She assured me, however, that it was definitely not flan. When asked for the English name for the browned, glistening custard in her hands, she only shook her head. Several people offered variations on the Mexican treat, but she rejected them all. We changed tack. What do you call something that is richly, custardy, syrupy sweet, but has no familiar analogue?
“It is… good for hummingbirds.”
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