THE MID AUTUMN FESTIVAL

During the hottest part of the day I ventured to a chachanteng where, two years ago, I had suffered immensely from the heat (because my circulation doesn't work so well during a heat wave; my blood is too thick for California, I've never been able to properly explain myself in this climate ... ). That had been an interesting day. I was determined to do it better this time.

Bitter melon omelette over rice (涼瓜煎蛋飯 'leung gwaa jin daan faan'), and Hong Kong Milk Tea (港式奶茶: 'gong-sik naai-cha'). Sometimes my food decisions are boringly predictable.

The twitchy dude was there -- he's probably the cousin whom everyone looks out for, some kind of physical malfunction -- and it became apparent that the staff themselves intended to feast during hot weather. Steamed fish (which looked lovely), three choi dishes, and deep fried pumpkin fritters, plus chicken. Eight people. Their lunch lasted longer than mine.

Over their heads the television showed a travel journalist visiting Pingtan (平潭) in Fujian province, a fishing village with delicious crabs, oysters, and razorback clams. First out on the water. Then in the evening barbecuing the catch on a rooftop with the family. A little girl ecstatic about the prospect of a feast, cute as the dickens in her happiness. And her two smaller sisters. Oh boy, food! Company! People! Deliciousness! Staying up late!

When Chinese people are happy because of food, it's often because it also means togetherness, family, not being alone, a sense of belonging and community.
And all kinds of other good connotations.

When solitary Dutch Americans are happy because of food, it's because it tastes yummy, they can listen in on other people and observe them discreetly, the place where they are eating means something to them, there's no rush, and good heavens this is great with a sploodge of hot sauce. We aren't as social.

Went into Hang Ah Alley afterwards, eventually ending up sitting in Spofford for the remainder of my pipe. The local residents there like to live outdoors in this weather. Afterwards did some shopping, and dragged myself over to a bakery to rest for two hours waiting for the day to cool down. My legs (because of heat and circulation) were throbbing and limp.


I did not need anymore milk tea, nor the pastry. But I didn't want to rely on their tolerance without spending money. Observing the throngs of people (mostly Chinese) eagerly buying mooncakes was quite enjoyable. One of the newest flavours is "fragrant leaf" (香葉 'heung yip'), which is pandan or screwpine, a plant native to Malaysia, Indonesia, and Indochina, whose leaves or essence are much loved as a fragrance or enhancer of other ingredients. Delicate yet intense. Excellent with chocolate, chiffon cake, coconut fudge, and curries.


At the bus stop on the way home had a chat with two young ladies about durian.
Which they love, and I'm on the fence about. It's one of those things.
There are durian mooncakes. Which I have not wished to try.



Today was the mid-Autumn festival. Eighth month, fifteenth day. Togetherness, family, not being alone, a sense of belonging, and community.



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