At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013


There are several Chinese restaurants where I dare not go anymore. No, it isn't that I misbehaved there, or did something incredibly stupid. It's just that I am not special. That is to say, not nearly as special as they've made me out to be.

Folks, there are over fifty million people world wide who speak Cantonese.
It was inevitable that one or two of them would be Caucasian.
And this blogger does not speak it well enough to be treated like the second coming of Christ.
Believe me, there are people who cringe when I try.
Not even the first coming of whatsisname.
I can read it better than I speak.
That isn't saying much.


I get embarassed when people treat me as some wonderful fabulous super-genius special lusus naturae. White guy speaking Cantonese. Whoopee.
Speaking Cantonese very badly at that.

Consequently, there are several dishes which I have not had in Chinatown in a very long while. Steamed meat patty with salt fish (鹹魚肉餅 haahm yü yiuk beng), for instance. Or steamed water eggs (蒸水蛋 jing sui dan) with a side of oyster sauce broccoli (蠔油蘭芯 hou yau lan sam). Pork and salted vegetable in noodle soup (雪菜肉絲湯米粉 suet choi yiuk si tong mai fan) is another one of those things.

The places where I would go to get those are off limits. Their renditions are extremely good, but I'm not just another customer there.
The spotlight of attention feels too hot.

I'm waiting for them to forget that I exist.


Please just act like I'm normal, okay? There must be millions of people who can read the menu. I'm sure they come in here all the time.

And really, if you keep trying to engage me in conversation, you'll soon discover that I'm quite unable to formulate more than a few sentences in your language before the lingual clumsiness kicks in, and I say something so staggeringly unintelligible that you're left wondering whether I flew in from outer space.


But I would like another cup of milk-tea.
Thank you. It's very nice.


NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


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