THE SATISFACTION OF HARVESTING

Upon deciding that I needed to get out of the house yesterday afternoon, I took the bus to the top of the hill, got out, loaded my pipe, and strolled down past familiar places. Taylor Street has some very nice spots. I would like to live there. Close enough to walk down to the shops and restaurants, but far enough uphill that the crazies seldom stumble around there. Plus one or two coffee shops nearby. A roast pig and duck place which I like four blocks away.

So I walked to the claypot restaurant because I couldn't remember when they'd be back from vacation, which looks to be next week. I'm looking forward to having a meal there.


Lunch, after the pipe, was further into Chinatown. Rice sheet noodle with pork liver and cilantro (豬肝腸粉同芫茜 'jyu gon cheung fan tong yuen sai'), lavishly condimentalized. While I was there I saw three largish groups of foreign visitors (Midwestern or European) march in expectantly, look at the menu above the counter, realize that they hadn't a clue, and depart hastily. The only people not speaking Cantonese there were a table of Taiwanese and a young lady with a bearded white boyfriend. Which to me is amazing. The food is delicious. We're enjoying it. Just look at us. Go on, take a risk. You will be glad you did. They even have black sesame dessert soup!

Okay, maybe sesame goo (香滑黑芝麻湖 'heung waat ji maa wu') isn't quite an attraction.
It's not why I'm there, and I almost never indulge in it. But did I mention the cheung fan?

There is a great satisfaction to be had by finding fun things to eat. Which requires an adventurous approach, and a willingness to try stuff one has never eaten before.
That type of cheung fan is rare in Chinatown.

Yeah, sometimes that means a plate of fragrant garlicky pig belly (廣東鹵水豬肚 'gwong dung lou seui jyu tou'). Which was delicious, but absolutely unchewable. Like rubber bands. Tried it twice. Both times I had to give up. So I can't recommend it.

Years ago I also tried tripe. Um, no.



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