Fuji: A Solution to Hunger

Fuji is ubiquitous in Thailand as Friendly's but replace the Reese's Pieces Sundae with green tea ice cream and you have it down.
Right down to the enormous picture menu and the navy and white polyester clad waitresses, there are striking similarities, and Fuji, as you may have guessed is a Japanese restaurant chain and frankly, it's a place we enter hungry and leave happy.

N likes the bento, but I will always be an a la carte kind of girl. I don't like being told what to eat or wear, which may account for never having been a bridesmaid.

A cult favorite at Fuji is the salmon with mentai sauce: strips of salmon sashimi wrapped around an asparagus tip drizzled with a creamy, spicy mayonnaise with those lovely neon orange roe all through. I feel compelled to order it every time.

And I have a confession to make--I'll take Fuji any day over pricey and in my opinion, well below par all-u-can-eat Oishi Grand Buffet places. And another "Only in Asia" shocking confession: I once ate Thanksgiving dinner with friends at the Fuji in Siam Center.

A Paucity of Parsley or Have You Seen This Green?

MIA in BKK is Petroselinum neapolitanum, the humble, indispensible flat-leafed Italian parsley.
I have searched high and low, at Villa, at Central Food Hall and I didn't even bother with Tops-those jokers never have it. Now, I am sure there is maybe one or two places I haven't checked--Gourmet Market, anyone?-- but really, what gives?
I know it's quite ridiculous to feel this way, especially since almost every other ingredient one would want is readily available in this city, which sometimes makes you feel like a spoiled, pampered farang.
It's the Ur-Herb, but I suppose since I am still breathing that I am living without.
But a curious thing happens each time I can't find it at the grocery store, I end up classically overcompensating by buying bag upon bag of the curly leaf kind (of which there is a plethora.)
And everyone knows that curly leaf is for garnish, preferably on a plate at a diner in Meso America. You can chop it up fine and hit it with olive oil all you want, but it will never fool anyone. And now because of my not-yet-named phobia of being without ANY kind of parsley, I have tons of it in the fridge.
Oh, I realize I am being hysterical--I threw some of it into the pesto I was making after I discovered that most of the basil was black and it was FINE.