We had a bit of a wait in the airport for our shuttle to the transfer hotel, so I went to get a cup of coffee. There were a bunch of standard sweet baked goods behind the deli glass (including something called a Lammington that was later determined to be good), but there was also something that appeared to be in the fried dough ball family. Hold the phone. I asked the guy what it was, but I couldn’t understand his reply. OK, I reminded myself, ask a better question. What’s in it? His answer included “spinach, garlic and onions”. My eyes must have lit up because he smiled at me. As I prepared to ask to the obvious follow-up question: “Is there cheese?”, Jules appeared and said our ride had arrived. I walked away from that counter with neither coffee nor what I now assume was some kind of Fijian Hushpuppy, and I regret that immensely. Getting hung up on whether or not there was cheese is a mistake I will not make again. And when I get back to the Nadi airport, if I see those dough balls again, I aim to rectify that mistake in a major way.
ETA: I did not see those dough balls again, and that’s something I now live with.
Earth to Ben 
Like the fried dough at the Durham Fair
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Hi Mom! But no, not like that at all. This was a ball, and had onions, and garlic and spinach. Picture a Munchkin, but savory. In the future, please read my descriptions of food I didn’t eat more closely. Thank you.
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