ELDERLY GENTLEMEN ENJOYING THEIR AFTERNOON TEA

This blogger spent too much time in the company of the far-older-than-himself yesterday. Semi-anonymously, of course, as one presumes that a white person doesn't understand a lick of Cantonese.
I'll admit that my conversational abilities are limited; the right word does not necessarily come to tongue, and my tones are often staggeringly wrong.
But I surreptitiously listen in pretty well, and elderly gentlemen who are socializing are not high-concept.
And if they're digging into a daantaat or chasiusou, they won't be grumpy. Silver-haired patrons of the typical Chinatown coffee shop or bakery are usually full of beans.
There's zest for life there that must out.

One particularly ancient fossil endeared himself to me by his distraction. That was probably a darn fine pastry he was eating, but when the two Taiwanese girls with the tiny tiny shorts came in, the yumminess in his hand lost out to the shapely golden thighs less than four feet away.
He thoughtfully put his snack down, and contemplated the gams.
He must have been ninety if he was a day.
But, from the male perspective, his priorities were in order.

There was a subdued but infinitely sunny smile on his face that stayed there even after they left. 'Oh my', it seemed to say, 'candy!'

I have to applaud that. My own reaction was a bit different. And while I also keenly appreciate shapely golden thighs, I was somewhat startled at the sheer scantiness of their garb. I felt certain that they weren't Chinatown girls and was sure that when they spoke it would be shrilly, in the harshest whiny Mandarin. There's just something about those Northern types that almost forces them into clothing that women probably should not wear.
Rougher personalities, and a streak of boldness.
Often staggeringly vulgar, too.
Still, nice legs.

Egg tarts taste more eggy after the Taiwanese legs have passed.
I had two more, plus another cup of milk tea.
Sheer golden goodness.

The old gentleman was still smiling when I left.
I am glad that they made the old fellow happy.
His cake probably tasted far better after that.



蛋撻 DAAN TAAT

The typical Hong Kong and Chinatown egg tart (蛋撻 or 蛋塔) is a small round open-faced sweet pastry containing a custard that is intensely yolky. Often the shell is marvelously flaky and crumbly, and by itself quite utterly delicious. Some Chinatown bakeries are famous for their egg tarts, and customers will line up outside the door waiting for the next batch to come out of the oven, whereupon there will be a frenzy not unlike beef tartare time at the piranha pool. Many people like them warm; I prefer them at room temperature, and I will not queue for anything if I can help it.

Small children will usually suck the custard out and ignore the pastry.
But an appreciation for the total balance marks maturity.
They're best with a cup of Hong Kong milk-tea.
It's the little things in life that count.
Plus sometimes, legs.



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