LET'S GO EAT SOMETIME!

Dinner was AWESOME! And, just another good reason not to eat in Chinatown with other people. Which I wouldn't mind doing at all, provided that they knew how to use chopsticks, and were familiar with Chinese food in more than a passing way. Including my ex, that's a group that can be counted on one hand.

Most people passing through do strange things like order shrimp-fried rice with sweet and sour pork, then try to eat what they just drenched with soy sauce from a flat plate with chopsticks while drinking cool refreshing Tsing Tao beer because there's a drought.
If I want shrimp-fried rice, I'll go to a Chinese restaurant that caters to Filipinos and Russians out in the avenues, and sweet and sour pork is only edible if you substitute fermented shrimp paste and hot sauce for the pineapple and ketchup.


One of my favourite restaurants was nearly empty when I got there, because it was still quite early. I had the counter entirely to myself. Stirfried bittermelon with chicken and the merest touch of black bean sauce, rice, a bowl of soup, and tea. I am very fond of bitter melon, but many people understandably find it a loathsome vegetable.

苦瓜

I don't often buy bittermelon in the markets, however, because greed overcomes common sense and the result is a BIG bag of warty things in the crisper, waiting for me to orgy-out before they spoil.

That usually happens when I have to go to work the next day. And, seeing as hot sauce or chilipaste is a necessary adjunct, and I like it really bitter, you can imagine that work can be a bit surreal.
That is to say, more surreal than usual.

Wednesday, in other words, is the perfect time to eat bittermelon.
There is no reason to rush out of the house tomorrow.

Monday and Thursday, not so good.

Other days, no go.


Some Chinese restaurants have bottles of Sriracha hotsauce, many of them however provide a little condiment jar or cruet of the slightly oily salty ground chili paste with which you are probably already familiar. One must be restrained with that stuff, because pepper seeds are indigestible.
Mother nature designed them so.

Consequently, they are somewhat energy-draining.

I am above all a temperate man myself.

Mother nature loves me.


*      *      *      *      *  


I mention this because this morning a friend brought a news item to my attention, which I am certain detailed the disastrous effect of too much chili on the fragile Anglo physique. Specifically, a British airplane had to return to Heathrow half an hour after take-off because some suffering Englishman experienced sudden eruptive intestinal distress while making use of the convenience chamber. The term "bio-hazard" was not mentioned at all, but I'm sure it came to mind.

An airplane is a confined space.

The 747-400 has a maximum passenger capacity of somewhat over six hundred passengers.

If nothing else, this proves that English people should not eat vindaloo, murgh makhni, gosht ka korma, maans achar, tanduri machli, tanduri murgh, tanduri boti, dam alu vindaloo, tarka dal, jinga masaladar, shab deg, or any type of zesty roti shoti whatsoever before taking off. Perhaps it is best if they fast, or cleanse themselves, ere venturing abroad.

Not being English, I can fully support that.


*      *      *      *      *  


Other than my own self the only other customers at that time were two women and a man, visiting our city from Blighty, judging by their accents. They were quite distinct, and though they sat at the far end of the dining room, I could understand every word of their conversation.

The salient element of which was: "mother dear, do you need to go to the bathroom?" This query was repeated a number of times, with the admonishment that it was downstairs, and she should leave her purse behind lest she forget it. In her state of extremis.


Yes, their shrimp-fried rice and sweet and sour pork had been delicious.

"Mother dear, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Really, they couldn't eat another bite. More Tsing Tao, please.

"Mother dear, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

They wished for some boxes to pack up the remnant.

"Mother dear, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

It would go back to the hotel room with them.

"Mother dear, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

An admirable breakfast tomorrow!

"Mother dear, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

I hope they're flying out.

"Mother dear, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Early A.M.



Anglos talk about the weirdest things.
Especially during mealtimes.
They are peculiar.




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