Thursday, February 21, 2019

BATHROOM FOR CUSTOMERS ONLY

They had run out of the rice porridge with fish slices by the time I got there shortly after twelve, and the choice was between preserved egg lean pork congee, or peanuts and plank fish congee. While I do like the latter, any dried fish product would probably not be a good idea before a medical appointment during which blood pressure was sure to be checked. The fried bread stick is, naturally, a must. They were packed, so I scooted in opposite an old fellow happily devouring a Chinese tamale (glutinous rice, pork chunks, lok tau, packed in a bamboo leaf cone and steamed for hours till dense and rich). The evidence of other snacks still sat before him.
Two young fellows speaking the northern tongue were at a table behind me, a pretty little girl eating rice noodle sheet roll with her auntie and grandmama were behind him.

I've learned that I must avoid their coffee. It isn't a strong suit. Many country district Cantonese are somewhat casual about the bitter brew.

Steamed rice noodle sheets, congee, various other dim sums, and the lunch special -- three sides, soup and rice -- are what you go there for. Or steamed buns (both Cantonese, with filling, and Northern, plain steamed bread for sopping), plus a bag of frozen freshly made wontons for heating at home. It's basically a lunch counter where the dominant languages are city Cantonese and country-side Toishanese. Little bits of Mandarin and English.


QUICK FOOD NOTES
魚片粥 ('yü pin juk'): rice porridge with fish slices.
皮蛋瘦肉粥 ('pei dan sau yiuk juk'): preserved egg and lean pork congee.
柴魚花生粥 ('chai-yü faa-sang juk'): dried fish and fried peanuts rice congee.
油條 ('yau tiu'): fried bread stick.
粽 ('jung'): Chinese tamale.
腸粉 ('cheung fan'): rice noodle sheet rolls (steamed and toothsome).
海米腸粉 ('hoi mei cheung fan'): dry shrimp rice sheet noodle.
香茜腸粉 ('heung sai cheung fan'): cilantro steamed rice-sheet noodle.
鮮蝦腸粉 ('sin haa cheung fan'): fresh shrimps rice-sheet noodle.
咖啡 ('ga fei'): coffee.
三餸一湯 'saam song yat tong': three sides, soup, and rice.
飽 ('baau'): steamed buns with filling.
饅頭 ('maan tou'): plain steamed bread.
鮮蝦雲吞 ('san sin wan tan'): freshly made wonton.


Often, in warmer weather, the place attracts little swarms of tourists, who after long vocal deliberation among themselves, will purchase one carbonated beverage, and one meatball. For some reason no one ever looks at the wall above, where a listing of what they have is clear, legible, and easy to understand, in two written languages.

Fortunately there were no outsiders crowding in, because it was humming, and there would have been no time at all to answer questions from a committee of the baffled yet apathetic.

If, from the foregoing, and the fact that I do not mention the name of the place or where it is, you get the impression that I am less than enthusiastic about Caucasians visiting, then who am I to contradict you?
It's strictly our kind of place.

Food-curious San Franciscans, fine. Southerners, Mid-Westerners, East-Coasters, Germans, Dutch, Italians, French, and many others warmly tolerated, but ultimately a waste of time who are in the way.



At some point, maybe this week, maybe next, I'll head into Chinatown for steamed chicken over rice (蒸滑雞飯 'jing gwat kai faan'), or steamed pork patty and rice (蒸肉餅飯 'jing yiuk beng faan'). There's a place near Pacific Avenue where they do a whole range of claypots, and most of the clientele are neighborhood people.

Home town cooking from a place that isn't my home town.
I'm a Dutch American from California.



The medical appointment went well, in case you were wondering. My blood pressure is back to normal, and the next follow-up visit to the cardiologist will be in the middle of April. Once again after lunch.

I'm thinking plank fish and peanuts congee then.





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