THE SINGLE DINER'S DUCK

When I entered I recognized seven people. Surprisingly all of them also recognized me. Despite all white people, as is well known, looking alike. No matter how big the nose or corpse-like the round eyes, we're anonymous and look like every other white person.
And good heavens, there are so many of us Caucasians in this world!
I have been told that I am handsome, like Robert Redford or Richard Milhouse Nixon. Those being two white individuals that Chinese people kind of recognize.
In fact I look like neither of those estimable gentlemen.
One of whom is dead. Maybe the other is too.
The jury is still out.

Very late lunch. Braised grouper over rice (紅燒斑球飯 'hung siu paan kau faan').
Plus a cup of milk tea, and a smoke afterwards.

I would have preferred some roast duck, but I didn't feel like overdoing things.
Besides, roast duck often tastes even more scrumptious with good company.

Scrumptious = 美味的

What with being a somewhat antisocial Dutch American, I do not know many people with whom I could share roast duck, and even fewer who would not object to the pipe afterwards. And none of them are actually in San Francisco, or invitable telephonically at the drop of a hat. My days off schedule is also a bit of a handicap in that regard.

I can honestly say that I have not broken bread with anyone at any of my favourite restaurants in Chinatown. This is by no means a stellar achievement.


It's actually kind of depressing.


Lunch was very good. Excellent food in a nice place.



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