I knew her years ago, we drifted apart, and lost track of each other. I'm ashamed to admit it, but what initially got me to speak to her was her figure. In those days I was more "outgoing" about such things. What kept the friendship going was curry.
Both of us liked curry.
It never went beyond curry.
The entire point of it was curry.
For many years I worked part-time evenings at an Indian restaurant. Once the proprietor disquisitioned to a customer about the healthful properties of Indian food, why it was both miraculous and good for you, bapribap, oh my yes. This from a man who had three heart attacks to a man who had ordered murgh makhni (butter), chicken tikka masala (more butter), and butter drenched fresh hot naans to go.
Okay. Well um.
Yes, I still like curry.
Or was homesick for Hong Kong.
Like the Shanghainese girl, he was nowhere near overweight. Given how fond Chinese people are of fatty pork, melted cheese porkchops over tomato-sauced spaghetti, and flaky pastries made with lard, it is always remarkable how trim, sometimes downright scrawny, most of them are. My apartment mate, and my landlady who lives downstairs, are both Cantonese American women who love butter. And are by no means overweight.
Well, my apartment mate thinks she's fat. Hoo hah!
She does not know very many white folks.
Certainly none from the Midwest.
In my case, what keeps me reasonably thin is probably all that good healthy living, lots of chili peppers, and caffeinated beverages. And avoiding melted cheese on everything.
I haven't had a cheese covered porkchop in three or four years.
No, I don't know what I will have for lunch today. It's still too early to think about that.
I'll probably go over to Chinatown and see what looks good.
Maybe roast duck.
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