In my fantasy world I want every meal I consume to coincide with me rapidly rubbing finger grease all over my iPhone while I joyously tell everyone who will humor me about what I am eating. I want to eat a meal so great I don’t even have the self restraint to use a napkin before I find myself shouting from the metaphoric social media rooftops (Instagramming). If the meal is stupendous, I won’t need prompting on its quality, I’ll volunteer that all on my own. But alas, this was not the case, and while the anticipation and romance of Truckeroo had me giddy, the meal did not. I thought I had buckled up (or rather unbuckled my belt) for a scrumptious Hawaiian meal of chicken teriyaki, sticky rice, and...macaroni salad?
|This is Hawaiian. Really.|