When she came home last night, my apartment mate was snarling about how soon there won't be any places left for her kind. They're yuppifying in Chinatown. Gold Mountain Dim Sum is gone, now there is a place where white people eat in an ambiantic atmosphere, complete with anteeky furniture that ancient poets and fairy-emperors might sit upon.
It is a very clean place. High-priced.
Yeah, I know.
I am still lamenting the disappearance of Yong Kee, San Wah Kue, and the ABC. As well as Ping Yuen Bakery & Restaurant from long ago.
[容記糕粉、新華僑餐廳、ABC大餐廳、平園餅家]
White folks favour pretty-pretty, combined with non-industrial lighting, polite yellow staff who speak English with the merest accent but are otherwise quiet and attentive, and top quality American Chinese Restaurant food on beautiful porcelain. Chop suey, kung pao, and General Tso.
They want a designer ghetto.
No poor people.
I am debating whether to have siu mai, greasy black bean sauce spareribs and rice, or delicious porkchops on my next day off. None of those is served in a preciously elegant environment, there are no poets there.
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