we’re at cafeier, hulhumale – THE place for steak if my man bakurube is to be believed. i think he bought into that old economic narrative – the consumption of red meat is positively correlated to one’s income and thus indicative of one’s socio-economic status.

therefore, steak is the default choice of rubes who think it an expression of refinement. i’m explaining this to kaiydha, who nods without interest.

no matter.

when the server arrives, i tell her my order. and the server, giving me the once-over tells, me that, actually, medium-rare will be VERY bloody, would i prefer well-done so there’s no blood at all?

oh, boy!

it’s NOT blood dammit. the carcass is exsanguinated after the slaughter.

so, what IS that red stuff then? it’s JUICE. the protein called myoglobin that the well-done crowd have no taste for. nor of. no taste AT ALL.

‘why’s everything so expensive?’ asks kaiydha when the server leaves. ‘my biscolata’s 40 bucks now. it was 25 a month ago. are we gonna end up like sri lanka?’

and she’s not the first person to have asked me this in the preceding weeks.

‘it could be the effects of the war, you know? remember, the WAR that’s raging?’

‘oh you mean ukraine? that’s a conflict, not a war.’ she says.

‘what do you even mean?’

‘a war is when they go all out, like when america invaded iraq,’ she says.

‘all right, then it’s that CONFLICT. it’s jacking up the price of oil and affecting food supplies.’

‘so, are we gonna end up like lanka?’

‘are you worried about inflation?’

‘no, just pandemonium. yes or no?’

‘i don’t think we’re gonna be like lanka. you know why? one, we get rich tourists who’re not affected by fuel hikes. two, the national budget is not even $4 billion. our monied friends can’t raise $4 billion between them to help a fella out? come on.“

‘didn’t lanka get billions too? like that helped.’

‘they have 20 million people kaiydha. our entire population can fit into a couple of districts in colombo. plus their leaders are even bigger morons than ours. so no, i don’t think we will end up like lanka.’

‘huh, that’s something.’

‘what is?’

‘that kind of certainty.’

‘certainty? nah, it’s just a feeling.’

‘right. ok, here comes your steak. eat quick, i need a smoke.’

the hunk of meat reminds me of a brown, fleshy heart, now stilled and ready for consumption – strangely appetising. i dig in, ravenous, ignoring the sauteed vegetables.

and dear lord.

oh god.

‘what? what is it?’ kaiydha asks.

‘it’s actually GOOD. there’s a lotta JUICE, baby. oh man. bakurube was right. i can’t believe it. the bugger really DOES know what’s up.’

‘can you hurry?’

‘you know,’ i say with a hunk of meat in my mouth. ‘i gave up smoking so i could taste food properly again.’

‘pity quitting can’t make you eat any faster. oh mother. i’m going. come when you’re done.’

she stands on her impossibly slender legs and walks out, leaving me alone with my meal.

no, i don’t have any beef with her.