Guess I need to google chitlins.
No platanos in the house this morning. The horror. He had eggs with mashed rulos, talk about yuck.
Every ethnicity has their own favorite starch. Despite the Italian spaghetti jokes, my father never ate it (or any other Italian food, for that matter). Every, and I mean every, dinner included potatoes. Boiled, baked, fried, but they had to be there.
Reminds me of a story. Dominican aunt made large lunch, chicken, yuca, salad, etc.; couple of hours later, son asks when she’s making lunch. She exclaimed he already ate it. “Oh NO mami, lunch is rice and beans!!!” True story.
Does Señor AlterEgo eat the same style breakfast while you are in the US of A, or does he only have it while you are visiting the RD?