Vignette

Freshman year in college. I had a foreign student from Taiwan for a roommate. Her name was Hui.

She loved these fermented bean curds with shredded chilies that looked like cheese and whey in a jar. She'd spread the coagulation on wheat toast as if it was peanut butter and jelly.

I'd wrinkle my nose. It was smelly. Pungent. Like cunt.

"Try it," Hui would say. "It's good!"

One day Hui was standing over the kitchen sink with that stuff again. "Come on," she coaxed. "What have you got to lose? Live a little!"

She pushed a button. I caved in.

I've been hooked ever since.

I remember vividly one fall day when it was just getting chilly. I came home to a sad Hui.

Holding an empty jar that used to hold those jiggety bean curds, she looked up at me with sad eyes. She shook the jar a little.

"No whey," she declared.

"Whey!" I replied, and whipped out a fresh jar from 99 Ranch, your neighborhood Asian store.

Her face lit up. She grinned.

This is my favorite college memory.