Thursday, July 20, 2017


After the friendly greeting, her second sentence indicated that to a certain extent there is a predictability about me and my food preferences.
So, just for the hell of it, I did something quite different.
And shot myself in the culinary foot thereby.

['sai m-sai tai choi daan ma']

"Do you need to see the menu?"

Well yes, thank you, I think I will order something I have never had before.
Which I did, and I shouldn't have. Even though I knew every word in the name, and what they meant in combination, it was a mistake.

I could have many other things. Perhaps the pork slices with mustard green, or the spare ribs. Noodles with mixed meats. Or even what I originally intended to have: roast duck rice.

And the waitress tried to warn me, telling me that it contained XXX.
Stubbornly, I went ahead and ordered it anyway.

As these things go, it was probably a splendid example of its type.
But it's a part of the XYZ that is best avoided.
By us delicate white people.

No, not going to mention what it is called, or describe the various bits. Or even where I had it. Because I don't want to be the only lofan that makes that mistake.


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