Every person has a hidden passion or secret vice that, if fully expressed in unsuspecting company, would profoundly shock people. Mine is dumplings.
Today was sensuous, lethargic, and depraved. Dimsum for lunch -- pork siu mai, hargow, gau choi gaau, wortip, plus jaa wu gok with hot sauce -- and for dinner I boiled up some pork & spinach won ton in broth with chopped mustard, sliced chilies, and a little lap cheung.
All of this was light, refreshing, nutritious, and likely to inflame my gout.
Though as yet there are no twinges.
Just cover me with a selection of dumplings, and I'll be happy.
Perforce I spent a large portion of the day outdoors, being a smoker, while my apartment mate swanned about lazily in her pajamas, and spent several hours watching Downton Abbey. It exhausted her. She is now in her room, dozing amid a pile of stuffed animals, and holding on to her teddy bear, while a large penguin watches over her.
Soon I shall go out for the last smoke of the day.
Blonde flake in an old Parker Billiard.
A post-dumpling digestive aid.
I have no shame.
Dumplings.
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