Haha, I just went for a heaping helping of seaweed chips and also tried chips made out of dried squid. I bought the latter both out of curiosity and because I though they probably contain a decent amount of protein, like "beef jerky of the sea" or something.
Well the squid chips are tasty, way too sweet for me to buy again but I'll definitely figure out ways to use them up. But they only contain 4g/100g of protein, whereas the DEEP FRIED, SALTED, CHILIED SEAWEED CHIPS HAVE 14,5G/100 of protein.
Makes sense why seaweed chips are one of my ultimate comfort foods; they don't just give me fuel, they have an astonishingly high protein content. Of course, they are very high in iodine which is fine either in small doses overtime, or in big portions every now and then, and there's even a warning about this on the package. But; the chips are kind of a different issue than using things like nori and kombu for cooking, as they only form a very small part of the meal, whereas snacking can ramp up the iodine intake a lot in a short time.
I really need to find some dried wakame so I can make my own wakame salad. I gorge on the stuff every time I go to a sushi buffet, and I have made it myself in the past, years ago. I don't know why I love seaweed so much, I loved it even as a kid when Japanese/South East Asian cooking weren't really known in Finland yet. (I went to kindergarten with a girl whose parents were Japanese and Finnish, and they once invited me and my mom over for dinner. I remember it so well! I was really shy, but it was so nice to see a home that was so different from my house. The parents treated us guests and their child with a lot of warmth and respect, and all the condiments and spices on the table were something I as a Finn had no previous concept for.
The main dish was hot pot, and I remember feeling a bit embarassed that I had to use a fork as I didn't know how to use chopsticks, whereas my kindergarten friend handled them like a pro. But the idea of having raw ingredients that would be cooked and eaten instantly, as a way to also make the meal last longer and make room for discussion, felt really giddy to me! My mom, despite being a horrid witch, actually wasn't a bad cook, but she never had much imagination and/or time for variety. When I was a kid I would sit on a kitchen stool and watch her cook, silently, learning by watching. This is actually one of the good memories I have of her - and the adults thought it was very cute. So sitting there in another family's table, being introduced to a whole other world of cooking, to the idea that there are kitchen appliances designed for hot pot meals, that it's commonplace to use a variety of sauces to flavor the food instead of just salt, pepper, and Finnish tears... It was so much new information that I felt overwhelmed!
Of course, it is overwhelming for any kid to have a several hour long meal but for me, as an autistic person, it was even more so. But this time the overwhelm wasn't too much to handle, it was just the result of my brain winding up and sucking in every detail of the meal I could. I do have a vague idea how my kindergarten friend looked, but otherwise I have forgotten how the adults looked - the only thing clear in my mind's eye was the beautiful, beautifully prepared pieces of food and how they danced in the boiling water.
After the visit, I remember going outside and waiting for dad to pick us up as mom had drunk with the adults while I was (very poorly) trying to do normal kid stuff and relate to the friend; I knew even then that she found me creepy. Back in those days, I was mostly non verbal and had poor social skills, shy to the bone, and hadn't yet understood that people hate being stared at. I was sad to see how she tried to play with me out of obligation, so I just withdrew into my shell and waited for the adults to be done.
Outside, it was one of the days of first snow. I remember breathing in deep and loving the smell of snow and my freedom from obligation of being "a good girl". It wasn't that I disliked the other kid, I liked her, but it was exhausting to have to put on a role of being a "normal" kid instead of the autistic sack of strange I was. While we were waiting for dad to come, mom would point at the bushes surrounding the family's home and say - "see, that's a snowberry bush! Like how *her* parents named her after!", which was nice and all but I also already knew it, as it had been said during the discussion. I remember saying "I know", and mom blowing up because she thought I was being disrespectful when I was just being... Factual. It had been said, I knew it. Mom went on to tell me that the berries are poisonous and I should never ever eat them. I remember thinking, why would I? I don't put foreign stuff in my mouth just so.
Thinking back, I believe mom had had some kind of a doctor assess me. She always treated me as a disabled person, like she did with my sis. And yeah I am disabled, but not in the intellectual sense. The kind of autistic I am, I consider to be mostly a condition that brings me personal suffering through overstimulation of my delicate senses, and social hardships because people can't understand that me who looks "normal" might melt down in a supermarket at the drop of a hat. I do think a lot of my talents and positives are also thanks to my autism. It's not a disease or an issue per se, it's just a differently wired brain, and I would not exchange it for anything in the world.
What a strange rant again. But I feel good now. I remember the hot pot and I remember the early snow against the black ground, and how it piled onto the snowberries. I remember the feeling of having learned and seen something important. And I'm so glad this interest in all things foreign and exciting has brought me this far.
