Fortune cookies speak the truth. People who complain that they’re just some mass-produced takeout dessert with indifferent sayings and random numbers haven’t found the truth. Those little, orange, butterfly-folded cookies contain some of the most profound messages to strike your brain since they told you bread could be sliced and the sky was blue.
Some cookies, the ones which taste more like cardboard or stale oatmeal, do not hold life’s great wisdom. They’re just the mass-produced, malarkey preaching take-out accessories the cynics make them out to be. One could say they’re not real fortune cookies, just a bunch of wannabes. No, there exists a specific kind of fortune cookie which holds the secrets of the world. These cookies are not just flour, sugar, vanilla, and oil lumped together with a piece of paper slipped inside its hardened shell. They have a particular taste, feel, and message.
The “true” fortune cookies are the best tasting ones. A faint yet intoxicating aroma of orange, vanilla and almond wafts up to your nose. A loud crunch, the crumbs melting in your mouth, a pleasant aftertaste. These are some of the qualities of a quality cookie. You can just tell when one of these turns up with your check after a fine meal of Mandarin Kung Pao Chicken.
Truthfully, I was a skeptic of the fortunes we all find crammed into the hollowed out middle of these orange delights. But after a difficult emotional experience one fall, I discovered the ironic accurateness of each tiny slip of paper I procured after a take-out dinner. Some of these cryptic messages were so downright spot-on, I had to glance over my shoulder a few times to make sure this cookie Confucius wasn’t watching me. Fortune cookie therapy works, however. It helps you realize things you wouldn’t generally notice about yourself and the goings-on of the world around you. I would never had gained the insight I needed to heal from my ordeal if I hadn’t given the tiny prophets a chance before stuffing them away in my peppermint striped tin that I keep on my desk. Plus, if all else fails, at least you get to learn a new word in Chinese, like watermelon (xi-gua) or October (shi-yue).
Little things shouldn’t be underestimated, especially fortune cookies. Even if their fortune isn’t as accurate as you had hoped (though they’re pretty close each time) their mouth-watering scrumptiousness is enough to make the disappointment vanish. What’s life without imperfection? But fortune cookies speak the truth, however vague it may be. This I believe…and your lucky numbers are: two, four, thirteen, twenty seven, and thirty two.
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