CHARMING CANTONESE HUNGER

Around four o'clock is when the Cantonese metabolism desires a tasty tea-time snack. Having recently scored some pork siumai and cheung fan with fresh shrimp, I was in a perfect position to listen in. I had already ascertained that the chicken buns were sold out, the choiyiuk bau were sold out, the gauchoi gau were sold out ......

Clearly I should have gotten out of the house earlier. Before so many tasty snackipoos had been enjoyed by OTHER people. But I was fortunate. Customers were flocking in behind me as I ate, and leaving bitterly disappointed, or settling for won ton noodle soup.
Won ton noodle soup is wonderful, but if you have your heart set on something else, it doesn't taste quite so good.
Several of the customers were lively young persons, lean and hungry.
At that age, their metabolism is running overtime.
Ravenous teenagers.

"How can you be sold out of jook? It's all gone? What kind of cruel world is this? Oh woe! Oh woe!"

Well, that's not QUITE how it was vocalized. But everyone who wanted jook came close. There were at least six of them during the time that I was happily enjoying the tender fresh shrimp enveloped in steamed rice sheet and fatty ground pork with a touch of black mushroom, dab of salted egg yolk on top to distinguish it from the regular beef siumai. I am not particularly fond of beef siumai.
But I just love fatty pork.



Slight sidetrack: when everyone in view is speaking Cantonese, some white tourists may not realize that they are still fully intelligible. A couple came in and got some baked barbecue buns, and as the counterwoman was bagging them, the woman patted her man on the backside and softly said: "I just love your hairy buns, sweetie".

No, there was not a sudden silence.

The moment they left, however, one of the teenage girls scarfing down won ton noodle soup snorted, and her companion hissed "wah, neige HAIRY BUNS ho hoh-oige!" All four girls at the table laughed.
The old gentleman next to me was smiling broadly.
His wife, on the other side, scowled.
Maybe it was envy?

Me? I just pretended I wasn't there. Despite being a white male, I don't know nuttin' about hairy buns.


[FOOD NOTES: Chicken buns: 雞飽 'gai bau'. Choi yuk bau: pork and pickled vegetable bun. 菜肉飽. Gau choi gau: 韭菜餃 chive dumpling. Wonton noodle soup: 雲吞湯麵 'wantan tong min'. Jook: congee 粥. Fresh shrimp in rice sheet noodle: 鮮蝦腸粉 'sin haa cheung fan'. Pork siumai: 豬肉燒賣 'chyu yiuk siu mai'. Black mushroom: 香菇 'heung gu'. Salted egg: 鹹蛋 'haam daan'. Beef siu mai: 牛肉燒賣 'ngau yiuk siu mai'. Fatty pork: 肥肉 、肥豬肉 'fei yiuk', 'fei chyu yiuk'. Baked barbecue buns: 焗嘅叉燒飽 'guk-ge charsiu bau'.]


I'm still somewhat surprised that they ran out of jook too.
Obviously their jook is something special.
I think I should try it.


Now, to dispell your notion that Cantonese people are all sweetness and light, and have nothing else going for them than nibbling on good things to eat, let me quote the young lady breaking up with her white boyfriend in the middle of Stockton Street: "I ain't no helpless little Oriental woman, I don't do that obedient shit".

Strong words. I have to suspect the food was involved.

Maybe he interfered with her snack.

Stupid git.



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