A BANE UPON HIS TRIBULATION!

Good thing I went out to eat yesterday afternoon, because when I finally returned home she was cooking a delicious vegetable stew for her mucky man, and the kitchen was off limits. So preparing my own food would have been out of the question entirely, as I wouldn't have been able to use the kitchen till long after nine o'clock.

She didn't used to be so neurotic about me being in there at the same time that she's making food to take over to mucky man's house, but without her he'd probably subsist on protein bars and non-dairy yoghurt.

My presence can be baleful.

There are cookies in the teevee room in case I get desperate, but this week they are "pumpkin sandwich cookies with pumpkin cream filling in every bite", which, if you ask me, is a repulsive concept so bad that some people are going to burn for an eternity in hell just for inventing them.

Her absurd experimentation with a new snack.
Not mine. I am not that adventurous.
Pumpkins are evil.


Besides, it is far too early for anything pumpkin, despite what Mary Walters back east says. Now is the time for mooncakes (月餅 'yuet bing'). Which are finally available again at several bakeries in Chinatown. The two best sources are Eastern Bakery on Grant and Double AA on Stockton.

AA BAKERY & CAFÉ
永興餅家茶餐廳 ('wing hing bing ka cha chan teng')
1068 Stockton Street
San Francisco, CA 94108
(415) 981-0123

EASTERN BAKERY
東亞餅家 ('tung ah bing ka')
720 Grant Avenue
San Francisco, CA 94108
(415) 433-7973


Remember, I like double egg yolk, either lotus seed paste or red bean. 雙黃蓮蓉 ('seung wong lin yung')or 雙黃豆沙 ('seung wong dau saa').
In case anyone wants to buy me a treat.
Because they are delicious!

The mid-autumn festival is on October 4 this year.
中秋節 ('jung chau jit').

Years ago I would share mooncakes with my coworkers, but I discovered that if they were white and American they weren't as excited about them as I was. Their reactions often amounted to "that's so interesting I do not want another piece", and some of them would stay out my way for the rest of the week, for fear that I would force more new concepts on them.

I remember one blonde, attractive in a way, who never spoke to me again. No, not the paranoid ditz in International Sales at the computer company who became convinced that I had evil voodoo skillz -- I had disquisitioned on kuru in the weeks before the Arkansas chicken ranch cannibal episode ("Chaco Chicken") of the X-Files aired, forgetting that many people are too literal minded, and have no curiosity -- but a woman at an auditing firm.
The mooncake was just too foreign strange weird for her.

Mooncakes fill me with childish pleasure.
Some people don't have that.



My apartment sort-of likes them. She's younger than me, but not as childish. I'll just assume that her boyfriend Old Muckity doesn't.
I don't know. He's as white as I am, but more of an idiot.

Whether he gets mooncakes or not, meh.
Not my concern either way.
Doof.



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