Thursday, September 07, 2023

DUTCH AMERICAN QUANDARY

Apparently, the great all-American breakfast nowadays is a pumpkin spice latte with avocado toast. Well, young urbanite all-American. Hipster yuppie office zombie all American. instead of hash browns, pancakes, eggs, bacon, biscuits, sausage patties. Along with lots of hot sauce, home made black pudding, ice cream, and fruit.

Actually, scratch that. This all-American boy goes for strong coffee on an empty stomach, internet news and a healthy dose of bile, plus a walk with a pipefull of good tobacco.

[Dutch American. For several generations. That's better than just plain wonderbread Anglo.]


No fuss, no muss, no bother. And no clean up.

Years ago I'd head to a lunch counter in Chinatown and have sausages, eggs, hashbrowns, and a pile of rice, in the middle of the day, with tonnes hot sauce, constant coffee refills, and a pipe. While reading the Sunday paper all afternoon.
Avocado hadn't been invented yet.

Neither had pumpkin spice latte.
It was a golden age.
Now here's the problem: I've got appointments with my cardiologist, regular care physician, and the eye doctor lined up for the next few weeks, it being that time of year again, and what I traditionally do after visiting hospitals and clinics is head to a chachanteng for something unhealthy like a baked porkchop covered with cheese after each visit. With hot sauce.
Because I can.

All my appointments are early in the morning.
I am not a breakfast person.



Unfortunately, the lunch counter where I used to go no longer has a counter or waitresses with endless pots of coffee, and they are semi-defunct because of the pandemic. Uncle's (金麒麟), where Rose Pak (白蘭大姐) did most of her work, hasn't existed for many years. Sun Wah Kue (新華僑餐廳) shut down decades ago. And the Washington Bakery & Restaurant (華盛頓茶餐廳) was sold in 2022.



Now, having wailed about the gilded past and sneered at the modern world, which is a very old geezer sort of thing to do, I end with the traditional salutation suitable for such an essay: Damned kids, get off of my lawn!



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