INTERNATIONALLY PRETENTIOUS

Cruising through the internet pages of the local newsrag this morning, and of course the one article that begged to be devoured was about food. Seeing as it is close to lunch time here in San Francisco. On a day off, when one normally wishes to eat real stuff instead of the apathetic muck from a convenience store in Marin County, the main attraction of which is the Punjabi dudes who work there and the Mexican labourers getting "spicy" chicken wings for breakfast.

The entitled white yutzes cruising in for a copy of the New York times and an energy drink when I stop by on my way to work are the rancid icing on that cake, and metaphorically the sloppy housewives or pudgy teenagers become the indigestible carob sprinkles. Patient almost saintly Punjabis, well-built Latinos snarfing wings: this keeps you grounded.

If it weren't for them, and the occasional elderly retired coot who has read much, travelled widely, observed keenly, and can talk intelligently about all of that, Marin might very well see many more mass shootings.


Especially after several hours (on Sunday) of dealing with neurotics. One droning Chinese American putz with a rich inner life who drools over fancy lighters, one pudgy well-bred ignorant specimen of pampered prosperous Caucasian who drools over fancy lighters, one Persian man-boy who has too much money and too little breeding who drools over fancy lighters, and lastly one extremely typical Philippino manifestation of a father worshipping unproductive rich kid who even in his early thirties will never truly grow up but instead drift through life with his family's wealth and connections helping him coast as an eternal consumerist unless he truly messes up and becomes a drug addict instead of just an alcoholic, who drools over fancy lighters.

It's a rich spectrum of human exemplars.


Sometimes I think the Space Aliens need to wipe us all out, now, instead of observing us and occasionally anal probing.


Anyhow. The article.
San Francisco chefs name their favorite dishes
(other than their own).
[Local rag: SFGate.]


Many culinary stars of whom I have never heard, from restaurants I do not go to, list their dream-dishes from other eateries most of which are not on my list, beautifully and appetizingly illustrated.
Much of this visual feast is Japanese, Korean, and Hawaiian in inspiration, some of it contains ingredients on which commoners like myself will not spend our hard-earned drug and tobacco money, and quite a bit is altogether more than oh-so-effing-precious.

I worked part-time in an Indian restaurant for many years, there are several hundred cookbooks and culinary reference works in my library, and I often prepare myself tasty meals using ingredients which are considered normal both here in SF and in many other parts of the world, besides dining out with curiosity and discrimination.

I am not unfamiliar with food.

Our masters culinarists in the Bay Area follow in the footsteps of that well-know white food expert who opened a fashionable Chinese restaurant not too far from Chinatown to show the Cantonese here how to cook, because real Chinese food could not be found in SF and would be so much better than the rancid lower-class slop the local Asian Americans ate.

It was vibrant, and infused with deep knowledge.
Artistic, educated, plus "gutsy" and "bold".


The article is interesting and the photos are lovely.
It is visually extremely exciting.


I am heading into Chinatown for lunch soon.
Somewhere loud, and cheap.
Going to eat well.





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